


Brace Against a Single Day

by Sassaphrass



Series: The Devil Wears Gladiator Sandles- verse [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Agron is an awkward traumatised puppy, Agron runs the security desk, Bonding over impulsive violence, Canon-Typical Lack of Psychological Realism, Everyone else is a basket case, Families of Choice, Human Traficking, M/M, Modern AU, Nasir is a Personal Assistant, Nasir is a wild little dog, Overprotective friends, Recovery, Snark, So Much Snark, Spartacus is a Cop, devil wears prada au, starting a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassaphrass/pseuds/Sassaphrass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasir is first assistant to the most important woman in fashion and the most terrifying woman in publishing. </p><p>Agron works the security desk and is trying to pretend that he has any idea what normal looks like. </p><p>Spartacus really wishes people would just use his real name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starting Something

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE BE WARNED: I did not mark this as Rape/Non-con because it is only obliquely referenced as something that happened in the past. It is NOT a major plot point and it is literally one sentence BUT IT IS THERE. SO!  
> Also, general Spartacus type stuff related to slavery and human trafficking, again not too directly talked about but still definitely there. 
> 
> This fic started as a Devil Wears Prada AU and then morphed into trying to think what the canon events of Spartacus would look like in a modern setting.

Nasir rushed into the building at 6:45 sharp desperately trying to balance the half a dozen bags he was carrying while not spilling the tray of Starbucks coffee. His gaze was locked on the elevators as he headed towards the turnstiles that would let him into the building. They were locked. Which was wrong, he came and went so much that all the people at the security desk knew to just let him in and out whenever he wanted.

 

“C'mon Joe! I need to get up there like 15 minutes ago!” He whined without bothering to try and see around the pile of stuff he was carrying.

 

“Joe's switched shifts, and you need to either swipe your card or show me your employee ID before you can go in.” came the bored and unimpressed voice in reply.

 

Nasir very delicately shifted the Calvin Klein back to the left so as to get a good look at whatever stupid fucker was now working security and preventing him from doing his job.

 

The security guard in question was huge, tall and built like a brick wall. Even the absolutely horrendous polyester uniform couldn't disguise his trim waist or the bulging muscles of his biceps. He was a handsome guy who looked like he _could_ possibly care less but that he felt that sort of extreme position would take too much effort.

 

If Nasir's hands hadn't been full he would have gone full Kill Bill on the little shit.

 

“Listen you retarded fuck,” Nasir hissed, not bothering to try and disguise his fury and attempting as much as possible to appear intimidating from behind the wall of couture bags he was carrying. “I am Licinia's first assistant and I will be coming and going a whole fucking lot so, do your goddamn job and let me through.”

 

The security guard's expression did not change one bit.

 

“Be that as it may, you still need to either show me your ID or swipe the card, because I'm new and it's policy.”

 

Nasir took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. There was no way he was going to be able to make it upstairs and have everything set up before Licinia arrived at 7 now. He started unloading everything he'd been holding. The bags from Calvin Klein, the boxes from Ralph Lauren, and the tray of coffee. Then with exaggerated movements he reached into his bag and pulled out his Employee ID badge and brandished it in the offending security guard's face.

 

“Now buzz me in, I'll be lucky if Licinia doesn't serve my head on a platter thanks to you. Imbecile.”

 

The security guard, Agron, according to his name tag, just smiled with false good will and chirped “Have a good day Licinia's first assistant.”

 

Nasir wanted to jump over that desk and strangle the man but that would put him even further behind schedule so he settled for barring his teeth and growling a little as he piled up the many bags and boxes again before storming off towards the elevator.

 

0.0.0

 

Agron shook his head at the nerve of that little fashionista, _Nasir_ , his badge had said. _Licinia's first assistant_. As if the fact that he ran errands and got coffee somehow put him miles above the lowly security guard who maned the lobby desk. 

 

However, Agron couldn't help but feel a bit pleased with how the whole thing went down. Nasir was very good looking and the blinding rage had somehow accentuated his looks. Lucky boy- Agron had been told (by Duro) that rage twisted his face up so that he looked like a demon monkey.

 

Not to mention the fact that 6 months ago Agron would have punched that fuckers lights out for calling him a retard. Clearly Gannicus had been a good influence, since he'd taught Agron that verbal antagonism could be  _almost_ as satisfying as physical violence (also maybe the Anger Management sessions helped, _maybe_ ). 

 

With a goofy grin Agron imagined his old friends in their new jobs. Crixus would probably be having the hardest time adjusting, since that man lived on a hair trigger- always only a word away from trying to peel some dude's face off with his bare hands, but Agron had a feeling that Lugo would be having some issues as well. Crixus at least acted like a normal person right up until he was trying to murder you with a plastic spoon, but Lugo had absolutely no concept of what was and was not appropriate things to say to people.

 

Agron sighed. The law enforcement officer that he affectionately knew as Spartacus was probably going to call to check in this week. He'd once again insist that they'd all be better off going to some sort of support group (as though the court ordered shrink sessions didn't count) and Agron would once again respond with a long string of profanities.

 

They all owed Spartacus a lot. That was a given, but he didn't understand what it was to be like them. To have no concept of what was and was not normal. Agron was lucky, he'd had Duro which had kept him from going completely off his nut like Crixus and the rest of them seemed to have done.

 

But, Duro was dead, had been for years, and Agron had spent the six months after his death on what could only be called a bloody rampage. It was only in the last few months that he had plateaued into the magical realm of 'stable' so maybe he was over estimating his own sanity a bit.

 

He smiles and nods and lets people who wave their badges at him through. Most just swipe them but some people have their hands full of coffee or stacks of paper. Agron twists his mouth wryly. For a minute he'd actually wondered if he'd seriously got things wrong with Mr. Licinia's-first-assistant but clearly no one else felt they warranted special priveledges. What a jackass.

 

But speak of the devil, here was Mr. First assistant himself flouncing out of the building while shooting Agron a withering glare. Agron had bite down on a chuckle. It was like being growled at by a Pekingnese.

 

The phone rang.

 

“Crassus Publishing. Security Desk, Agron speaking.”

 

“Hey Agron.” A familiar voice replied.

 

Agron relaxed. “Hey Spartacus.”

 

“That's not my name.”

 

Agron hummed non-commitally. “So you keep saying.”

 

“Listen Agron, could you come down to the station after you get off your shift?”

 

Agron's blood ran cold. “Why?”

 

“The lawyers want to go over a few things in your testimony, I told them it'd be better to do it at the station.”

 

Agron clenched his fist and pressed down on the desk in front of him. “What more could there possibly be to go over? It's been years, you probably know more about my life and experiences than I do.”

 

There was a pause. “Listen...There's a lead on the whereabouts of Crixus's girl, Naevia?”

 

“Uh-huh. And?”

 

'And, he's refusing to testify until she's rescued. He's afraid if he does they'll hurt her for it.”

 

Agron saw red. “THAT FUCKING CUNT!!! WHERE IS HE RIGHT NOW? I'M GOING TO FIND HIM AND-”

 

“Agron!! Calm down- you're at work! You don't want to be fired on your first fucking day!”

 

Agron bit his tongue and glanced around the room. There were definitely a few people staring at him.

 

In through the nose out through the mouth. That's what the shrink had told him to do when he was first rescued and halfway out of his mind with fear and rage most of the time.  _Focus on your breathing, Agron._

 

He glared at the desk for a minute. “He ought to remove head from ass and remember that if he doesn't fucking testify he's letting those goat fuckers get away with it. They need to fucking pay Spartacus. You promised us they'd fucking pay.”

 

“I know I did, Agron. And they will.”

 

“The hell they will. Half the guys in the trial were only testifying because Crixus told them to. If they back out...”

 

“We'll still have Gannicus, Oenomaus and You. That will put them away.”

 

Agron clenched his jaw and tried to hold perfectly still. If he moved he'd probably end up smashing his chair against the desk while screaming bloody murder.  _In through the nose, out through the mouth._

 

“Agron?” Spartacus asked.

 

“Fine. I'll fucking be there. You tell Crixus next time he sees me he better start running.”

 

“Ag-” Spartacus started to say something but Agron wasn't in the mood to listen and slammed the phone down onto the cradle.

 

He closed his eyes and pressed his fists to his forehead, not sure if he was trying to forget or desperate to remember.

 

_Duro's blood running over his hands. Soaking his lap, the ground. Everything. He doesn't remember screaming but Spartacus and the others tell him later that he wouldn't stop. He just sat their and howled, cradling the slowly cooling corpse of his baby brother._

 

“Excuse me.”

 

A sharp voice pulled him back to present and he's faced with fucking Nasir again, waving his ID badge an inch from Agron's nose with the most smarmy expression on his stupid handsome face.

 

Agron attempted to lift the corners of his mouth into a pleasant smile and pressed the button to send him through. Clearly the smile hadn't come out quite right because Nasir's expression had moved from shit-eating to mildly concerned.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

 

“Fine. I know you're very busy Mr. First-assistant, so please don't let me delay you.” Agron ground out in reply and gestured towards the turnstiles. “Have a nice day.”

 

With one last questioning glance Nasir headed back up towards the elevator. He'd been an ass this morning hadn't he? The security guy was new and judging by his expression today had not been good.

 

He had become a less powerful version of Licinia hadn't he? Smacking people down for not being impossibly perfect in performing their duties, acting like an entitled brat crossed with the devil. He made a resolution then and there not to bother the poor guy again. He'd keep his ID card handy and swipe it going in like a normal person who had a non-psychotically demanding boss, so what if it was less convenient. Nasir might be a bit of a scrapper but Agron was at least a foot taller than him. If it came down to a fight there was no question that Nasir would be the one being peeled off the floor and sent to the ER.

 

He was feeling better and better about this plan. Leave the large, handsome man, who'd smiled at him like someone had ripped out his guts, alone. This was a good idea. A very very good idea.

 

A good idea that sadly died in the cradle since Nasir was always running in and out of the building and was now very firmly on Agron's radar, which meant that Agron always greeted him, usually in some sort of snarky and passive aggressive way and buzzed him through the second he waved his ID in the general direction of the security desk. Agron had apparently moved on from calling him Mr.Licinia's-first-assistant-sir and now just referred to him as “Little Man” often accompanied with a shit-eating fake smile.

 

It had been nearly two weeks of this when Nasir rushed in at 6:30 coffee tray firmly in hand as he prayed to be able to finish that forgotten schedule write up before Licinia arrived at 7 sharp.

 

Instead of being greeted by Agron's usual derisive drawl he was stopped short by the sight of the surly security guard arguing with a man a few inches shorter than him but even more muscular with a face that screamed “I will rip your arms off and beat you to death with them”. There was also an apparently mild mannered police officer who was unsuccessfully attempting to de-escalate the argument.

 

“You would gamble with her life!?” Tall dark and murdery was saying, his voice deep and oddly hoarse.

 

“I would see the men responsible pay! Please Crixus, must we have words here? Leave and we will discuss this later.” Agron replied, clearly uncomfortable with having a screaming match in the lobby.

 

“HER LIFE IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR VENGEANCE!” Murdery roared.

 

“AND WHAT OF THE OTHER LIVES THEY'LL TAKE IF YOUR RELUCTANCE LET'S THEM WALK FREE?!” Agron screamed back, obviously throwing caution to the wind.

 

“I CARE NOTHING FOR THAT! ONLY FOR NAEVIA!”

 

“AND I SHOULD SACRIFICE MY LIFE FOR HER?!”

 

“HOLD. YOU WOULD NOT QUESTION IF IT WAS DURO IN HER PLACE.” The police officer cut in.

 

It looked like Agron and Mr. Murder were about to try and climb over the desk and kill each other with their bare hands.

 

Nasir grabbed his phone took a picture and then opened the dial screen.

 

“Ahem.” He said loudly and clearly.

 

They all turned to stare at him.

 

“Clear out or I'll be lodging a formal complaint against you.” He said addressing the officer.

 

“You misjudge the situation-” the officer started to say.

 

“I don't think so. Agron here asked you to leave and wait to have this conversation somewhere else. You refused. I'm guesssing you're friends and that's why he didn't buzz for back-up but believe me: I will end you if you keep causing trouble around here.”

 

They all stared at him in complete shock before Mr. Murder and the officer burst out laughing.

 

Now Nasir was usually the master of his emotions. You don't last long as first assistant to one of the most powerful and demanding women in fashion without the self-control of a Medieval Saint. However, he had had enough scorn from muscle bound idiots in high school to last a lifetime. 

 

He grabbed a cup of coffee from the tray stalked up to the non-police officer and poured it over his head. The man in question shrieked like a little girl (Ms. Crassus was very particular about how hot she liked her coffee) and lunged forward at him.

 

“Fuck the Gods!” Agron yelled, vaulting over the desk and, with the help of the police officer, restrained his friend from ripping Nasir's head off.

 

“You are a wild little dog! Get out of here!” He ordered.

 

Nasir, wide eyed with shock at his own stupidity bolted for the elevators, not bothering to swipe his card and hopping over the turnstiles in a mad dash for the safety of the elevator.

 

Once safely behind the metal doors and away from the roaring of the man he'd just doused with scalding coffee Nasir leaned his head against the door. What had he been thinking? Given the temperature of that coffee what he'd done probably counted as assault, and he'd done it in front of an NYPD officer after threatening to report him. He was dead. He was so fucking dead. He'd be lucky if Agron ever looked at him without paint-peeling hatred in his gaze again.

 

....Not to mention he'd left the entire tray of drinks behind him in the mad dash for the elevator.

He was soo fucking screwed. He sat down at his desk and banged his head against the flawlessly elegant white surface, before sitting up and manically typing out the report he'd come in early to write anyway. Maybe Licinia wouldn't eviscerate him if it's ready when she walked in the door.

 

A few minutes later Chadara breezed in, chattering happily about something or other and freezing when she noticed the distinct lack of coffee sitting on Nasir's desk.

 

“Nasir! Where's her coffee?” Chadara squeaked in terror.

 

Nasir shrugged without turning his head. “Forget it. Just leave me to die.”

 

“No! I cannot handle this place without you. If you move quickly you can be out of the building before she gets here. I'll cover for you but RUN.”

 

There's a yell that echoed down the hallway. Licinia's car has arrived. It's too late to escape now.

She glided into view on sky scraper heels and, with a glance at Nasir as though he was something she's found on the bottom of her shoe, tossed her coat and bag at Chadara'a head as she strode into her office. There was a pause. Nasir locked eyes on Chadara and braced for impact.

 

“NASIR, WHY IS MY COFFEE NOT HERE?!” The shrill voice cut through the air like a gunshot.

 

Nasir winced and scuttled into the office. It was what he feared. A verbal evisceration the likes of which he hasn't experienced since he first started working as Licinia's second assistant. Thankfully Someone important from Dolce & Gabbana called before she could reduce him to a quivering weeping puddle on the floor. She dismissed his with a wave and with the promise that there will be hell to pay if her coffee wasn't waiting for her by the time she hung up the phone.

 

With a sigh Nasir dragged himself out of the office and dejectedly moved towards the elevator. He was going to have to face Agron after what he'd just done. His face burned with embarassment at the very thought of it. If Agron was dismissive and judgemental before, Nasir shuddered to think about what he'd be facing every morning now.

Who pours scalding coffee on someone? Who does that?! CRAZY PEOPLE! Nasir is not crazy, in fact he'd long thought of himself as the only sane person working at Runway but NO apparently he chose to lose his mind in front of the drool worthy security guard he'd already made a terrible impression on. Why was god so cruel? Why was he such a moron?

 

He trudged out of the elevator with his head bowed, hoping to avoid Agron's watchful gaze.

 

“Nasir!” the voice echoed across the lobby, the inflection was wrong and the Syrian realized suddenly that Agron had only ever seen it written down. He usually called him by the long slew of insulting nicknames he concocted.

 

With a wince Nasir glanced up and stopped short.

 

Agron was _smiling_ at him, n ot his false tight-lipped smile or his shit-eating sneer, but an actual full on smile that left deep dimples in both cheeks and lit up the room like a small sun. _At Him._ He might have gone a little weak in the knees. It had nothing to do with the smile. He was wearing physically demanding boots, okay?

 

“Little man!” Agron held up a tray of Starbucks coffees. “As payment for your assistance this morning- and if you so choose- I shall pay for your lunch today!”

 

Nasir gaped. Not only was Agron inexplicably not angry but he acutally wanted to  _celebrate_ what Nasir had did? 

 

“Here, take them little man. I do not yet wish to mourn your passing.” Agron said shoving the tray towards him.

 

Dazedly Nasir took it noting that they were all the correct orders.

 

“Is  _your_ friend okay?” Nasir asked shamefaced. 

 

Agron snorted. “Crixus? Shithead does not count among my friends. I'm pleased by your actions, Spartacus has fobidden fights between us, but I have been longing to smash his fucking face for days-”

He cut himself off and blushed, apparently ashamed to have admitted having recurring murder fantasies to someone he hardly knew.

 

“I have lunch at 12:15. Should I meet you here?” Nasir said, taking pity on the poor guy. It wasn't his fault his friend was an ass and Nasir was, apparently, just as psycho as his boss.

 

Agon smiled that wide perfect smile again and nodded. Nasir gave him a weak grin and then returned upstairs. When Licinia put the phone down, he immediately placed the coffee in her empty hand. She looked almost surprised by his efficiency but didn't say anything. Nasir decided to count it was a win.

 

Agron was happy. Crixus, that hypocritical fuckwit, got his comeuppance. He'd managed to do something nice for Nasir and had only creeped him out a little bit, and now they were having lunch. It was all wonderful right up until he realized he had no fucking idea how to have a normal relationship. Shit. Well, how hard could it be? Honestly, if  _Crixus_ could find  _true love_ while  _locked in someone's basement_ than Agron could have a nice lunch with the cute assistant that he took a particular delight in teasing. 

 

Nasir wasn't really sure about this lunch date for a number of reasons 1) he was not sure if Agron was interested-interested or if he just wanted to celebrate the fact Nasir dumped coffee on his enemy, 2) Agron wasn't the type of guy Nasir usually dated, 3) He was still absolutely mortified that he kept losing his temper in front of Agron.

 

Agron looked up with a smile as Nasir gets out of the elevator. The real smile, with the dimples that lit up the room. Nasir returned it. He was so fucked.

 

Nasir found lunch with Agron to be an interesting experience. Agron wasn't like anyone else Nasir has ever met. His talked blunt and sarcastic, all dismissiveness and scorn, except he kept looking at Nasir like he was afraid Nasir is going to get up and run the other way. Nasir learned that Agron was German and had grown up in Berlin but had been in New York City 'a while'. He did body building and MMA in his spare time and cared a terrifying amount about soccer. He lived in an old industrial building, in a shitty neighbourhood, that he and some of his buddies had converted into lofts.

When Nasir tried to start telling him about his own life he realised that the Magazine and fashion  _was_ his life and had been for a while. He's not ashamed though, and actually gave the entire "Fashion is More Important than People Think" speech that he usually used to weed out the week when job interviewing. Agron actually looked interested and impressed by it.

The whole thing is surprisingly nice. Nasir doesn't usually talk to guys like Agron, guys with who think Gap is high end and who actually give a shit about football. He can't help but wonder if he's been missing out all these years now.

 

 

 

Agron was pleased as punch when he got back to the building they'd all been renting together. Gannicus was at the table rolling a joint while smoking a cigarette.

 

“You look almost happy Agron.” He drawled when he caught sight of the giant.

 

“Yeah.” Agron replied falling into the chair across from him. “I had lunch with this cute little fashion boy that works in my building.”

 

Gannicus raised an eyebrow. “That wise?”

 

“Oh like I can't go on a date.” Agron grumbled.

 

“More like you'll accidentally smush a normal sized human, Gigantor.”

 

“Shut up you stoner.”

 

Gannicus shrugged and lit his joint with the but of his cigarette.

 

“Just saying. Wasn't so long ago you were smashing that dude's face into the pavement.”

 

“I did that fucking once.”

 

“The smashing? Yeah that was once. The hulking out blind rage? That was _many_ times.”

 

“Like your coping strategies are better.”

 

Gannicus grinned and took a drag. “At least they don't drag anyone else into this shithole.”

 

“Oh so those girls you come home with every other day are going where exactly?”

 

“They aren't staying. This boy of yours, sounds like you'd be wanting him to get involved long term.”

 

“It was just lunch.” Agron protested.

 

“Uh huh. He know about us? The merry band of freed slaves.” Gannicus asked pointedly.

 

Agron clenched his jaw. “No. Don't call us that. We weren't slaves.”

 

“Oh, so you haven't been following the prep for the appeal in that big human trafficking trial which you're testifying at?”

 

Agron glared. “It does not affect my ability to have lunch.”

 

Gannicus laughed. “Uh huh. Look you're desperate for a lay, I'll call Saxa, you can talk to each other in German, get your happy on, she'll climb you like a tree. Everyone goes home happy.”

 

Agron glared at him.

 

“Oh come on, she may be missing some of your favourite parts, but I'm talking about stress release not true love.”

 

Agron amped up the glare. Gannicus held up his hands in defeat. “Fine, but don't say I never did anything for you.”

 

Agron grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat back down just as Gannicus said softly.

 

“But tell me this Agron, have you ever...had something like that where it hasn't been...you know?”

 

Agron stared at the wall. “I'm not like you and Crixus. I had a life before Batiatus before all that shit, and I was already 18 when...” he trailed off.

 

“...when that evil little toad bought you off someone?” Gannicus finished.

 

Agron shrugged and looked at Gannicus. He'd never been close to Gannicus, who'd been long gone from the house of Batiatus when Agron had arrived. They'd only met after Spartacus had brought the whole operation down in a blaze of glory and a rain of blood. Gannicus had come out of the woodwork after that, looking for Oenomaus, who'd eventually convinced him to testify against Batiatus and his ring.

 

No one knew how long Gannicus had been stuck in that world but it seemed that he, like Crixus, had spent most of his life as property. He was initially from somewhere in Eastern Europe, and unlike the rest of them he was pretty cavalier about what had happened. Probably partly because he'd managed to escape without the help of an undercover cop, and partly because he couldn't deal with it any other way.

 

Gannicus shook his head. “I just think, that you should stick with people who understand this sort of shit.”

 

“Fuck this shit. Fuck Batiatus. I'm not traumatized.”

 

“There are several people with very large hospital bills who might contest that.”

 

“I'm getting better.”

 

“Uh huh. You told our fearless leader about your little romance yet? He'll totally want to meet this dude before he lets one of his precious babies date him.”

 

“He's met him.”

 

“Uh huh.” Gannicus was obviously pretty sceptical about that. Which, fuck him, Agron wasn't a liar.

 

“Nasir may have poured a cup of coffee over Crixus's stupid fat head but Spartacus was there.” He confessed.

 

Gannicus blinked and then nearly fell out of his chair laughing.

 

“I take it back! Marry this boy!”


	2. Battling On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir and Agron's relationship continues to get more serious. Nasir learns some disturbing facts about Agron's past. A choice has to be made.

Nasir had somehow found himself in a relationship with Agron.

Which was great.

 Agron was fun, fit as hell and deceptively chivalrous. Most mornings Nasir would come in to find Agron handing him a scone or a coffee and attempting to classify exactly what Nasir had been going for when he'd put together his outfit that morning. Agron was almost always wrong but it was still cute. If he missed lunch Agron would send a sandwich to his desk.  It was fun hanging around him and there was something really endearing about the formal way he had of talking (he claimed to have learned English under unusual circumstances). Nasir had gone to a soccer game with him and Agron had agreed (with not even a bit of whining) to check out one of the intense high fashion parties that Nasir occasionally got invited to.

 

Honestly despite the foul-language and intense judgement that Agron seemed to feel towards all non-Nasir members of humanity the guy was probably the nicest person Nasir had ever dated. Which, when you considered the fact that Agron referred to about eighty percent of the population as “fucking shitheads”, was kind of pathetic.

 

 The drawback was that Agron seemed to be part of some sort of gang who felt he needed protection. From _Nasir_. _Agron_ , 6'2”, built like a brick shithouse and with the ferocious attitude that had once actually stopped Licinia in her tracks, apparently needed protection from little fashionista _Nasir_.

 

 Because, it seemed like, everywhere Nasir turned there was some muscle bound dude doing that two fingered “I'm watching you” hand gesture. It was _really_ fucking weird. Agron, meanwhile didn't even seem to register it. If he saw the guys in question he'd grin and with a bellow perform some weird Alpha-male greeting that included a lot of swearing, thumping each other on the back and (usually) a bit of minor violence. 

  
   
 Agron finally clued in to the fact that his friends are trying to either sabotage their relationship or prevent him from having any sort of privacy when they stumble back to his place for the first time only to find every single one of his roomates (and he lives with nearly a dozen guys in a converted industrial building) standing in a row with there arms crossed giving Nasir a series of disapproving glares (or trying to, Gannicus looked more like he was jealous of Nasir's shoes)

 

  At least _that_ time Agron had been just as freaked out as Nasir had been.

 

 “I'm so fuckking sorry about those NO GOOD CUNTS!” he said, raising his voice on the last bit so the weirdos outside would hear.

 

 “Okay, what's going on?”  Nasir demanded because, there's friends, there's over-protective friends, there's over protective families, and then there's these guys.

 

 “Umm...” Agron ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “It's the brotherhood?”

 

 “The what now?”

 

 “None of us have any family so we all...look out for one another?”

 

 “It's an intense value of 'looking out for each other'”  Nasir pointed out.

 

 Agron grinned., “This is nothing. You should see what we did to Gannicus when he first showed up wanting to stay with Oenimaeus...”

 

 Nasir frowned “Which one's-?”

 

 “The constantly off his head blonde surfer and the scary looking black guy with the gnarly looking scars.”

 

 “Huh. They do this for everyone's date?”

 

 “Nah. Well, most of them are just looking for a fuck not a relationship. Plus they're a bit worried cause of the Duro thing.” He dismissed the mild stalking with a smile and a wave.

  
   
 “The Duro thing?” Nasir asked.

 

 Agron's face immediately shuttered, going from careless to grim in a second. “Duro was my brother. He died a few years ago. I didn't take it well. But...” his grin reappeared. “...let's talk about more pleasant things...”

  
 Nasir smirked and threw his arms around Agron's neck leaning in close. “Now what sort of things would those be?” he whispered.

 

 That night was excellent, even if Nasir couldn't quite shake the feeling that Agron's 'brothers' were outside the door grading him on his sexual performance and, if he failed to meet their standards. would begin to attempt to sabotage the relationship.

Agron dozed off almost right away, Nasir propped himself up on an elbow and smiled at how cute he looked sleeping on his stomach all snuggled up to his pillow and-  Suddenly Nasir noticed a thin scar on Agron's neck just below the hair line that dissapeared under the duvet. Frowning, Nasir pulled the duvet back. The scar widened, and crossed two other ones which were smaller and more faint.

  
 Without thinking Nasir ran a finger along one of the lines. With a jerk Agron woke up. Staring at him wide-eyed before relaxing back down into the mattress. He yanked the blanket back up.

 

 “Don't do that.” He glanced at the clock and then leveled a glare at Nasir. “We both have to get up early tomorrow. Why don't you just go?” He snarled.

 Numb, Nasir nodded, gathered his clothes up from the floor and snuck out. Or, tried to. There's a large man with a beard lounging at the table in the kitchen as he tries to head for the door.

 “You runnign away little boy?” the man asked with a heavy German accent.

 

 “No, just...Agron asked me to leave.”

 

 The German raised an eyebrow and gave him a very obvious once over. “He fucking stupid.”

 

 “I was looking at his scars...” Nasir tried to explain.

 

 The German glowered. “Maybe not so stupid.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Go little man.” He ordered.

  
 Agron howled and threw his alarm clock at the wall once he was sure Nasir has left. Lugo peeked in the door.

  
 <It did not go well then?” he asked.

 

 <It when wonderful. But _then_ he saw my scars.>

 

 <So? You took those beatings for your brother. They are a mark of honour. Much like the mark of the brotherhood. Plus you can't screw a boy and not take off your shirt. It's rude.> Lugo argued

 

 < _You_ know that, and _I_ know that but in the last year I've discovered that it's hard to work: My brother and I were victims of human trafficking, and found ourselves in fights to the death, into normal conversation. It freaks people out. >

 

 Lugo snorted. <You could just tell him you have a whip fetish.>

 

 <And that's not gonna freak him out?!>

 

  Lugo shrugged. <The ladies I date don't ask about them.”

  
   
 <Do you even know the names of the girls you 'date'?>

 

 <I do not see how that is relevant to this discussion> Lugo huffed.

  
 Agron couldn't help but laugh at his friend. He sits down on the bad and cradles his head in his hands.

 

 <I really fucking like him Lugo.> He admitted.

 

 Lugo sat down next to him and swung an arm over his shoulders.

 

 <I know you do. It may all work out.>

 

 

 Nasir tried to creep into his apartment quietly, but just as he closed the door. Chadara turned on the lamp in the living room, scaring the crap out of him.

 

 “I take it the date went well?” she said, with a sly grin on her face.

  
   
 Nasir scrubbed at his face and nodded before adding: “Yeah, right up until he threw me out.”

 

 Chadara winced. “What did you do? Did you do that thing where you lick his ear?”

 

 “What thing where I lick his ear?”

 

 She blushed. “Oh, that must be a different friend.”

 

 Nasir nodded sceptically.

 

 He's not sure what he expected from Agron the next day. Awkwardness? The Cold Shoulder? The contempt the German feels for the rest of humanity to suddenly also apply to him?

  
 Instead Agron was sheepish and nervous. He handed him a coffee on his way up and apologized for throwing him out. He didn't offer an explanation for the scars and Nasir doesn't ask for one. Though he sort of wanted to. Agron's reaction he might have dismissed as self consciousness or even a genuine desire to get some sleep before his stupidly early shift the next morning but the way Lugo had growled at him on the way out- Obviously the scars are a Big. Fucking. Deal.

 

 Which, okay, may, upon further reflection, freak Nasir out just a little bit because, well, it's obvious that Agron's life is several stages past being eccentric and firmly in the land of weird, but until he'd seen the scars Nasir had found it an endearing We're-a-very-loyal-and-oddly-fitness-focused-family-of-choice sort of weid rather than we-may-all-be-in-a-fitness-based-cult weird.

  
   
 And, okay, Nasir really really really likes Agron. He does, but, he's starting to be kind of worried about what sort of rabbit hole he's falling down here. Because, Nasir doesn't believe in fixer-uppers. The power of love won't fix anyone and he can barely keep himself alive and...shit. He hated the idea that maybe all of Agron's brothers were right to want to protect Agron from him, beause this may be some heavy shit and he's not sure he's really capable of dealing with it.

 

 He wanted more than anything to prove himself worthy by dealing with this but...

  
   
But nothing. He was going to act normal and be Agron's boyfriend and if things got too heavy than he'd cut and run, but there was no reason to think it _would_ get to0 heavy.

Nasir was the one who had displayed impulse control and anger issues. Agron had been pretty normal, all things considered.

 

 Though given the large number of muscle bound men that considered Agron family if did cut and run he would haveto run far and run fast but that's okay he'd been thinking a change of scenery would do him good.

 

 He's decided all this while reorganizing Licinia's schedules and going over her accounts (what can he say? He's a multitasker).  

 

 To his surprise Agron was waiting for him when he go out of the elevators to go home. Agron worked a regular shift for a non-psychotic boss so he actually go to leave at 3 after coming in at 6 and was usually long gone by the time Nasir got off work.

 

 Agron was sitting on the benches by the door and stood up when he caught sight of Nasir.

 

 “Apologies.” he said before Nasir was even halfway across the lobby.

 

 Whatever doubts Nasir had been entertaining about continuing to try immediately went out the window. He loved Agron's oldschool courtesy and lack of proper English vernacular.

 

 “For what?” he asked.

 

 Agron stared him down. “For my actions last night. They were rude. I hope you have not reconsidered...me?” He sounded so worried that Nasir might actually have decided to quit the Drama. Nasir decided to pretend he hadn't been considering that exact thing earlier.

 

 Nasir grinned and grabbed Agron's hand. “What? The dish who waited for me to get off to say sorry, even though he already said sorry this morning? What would possess you to think that?”

 

 Agron smiled that smile Nasir had first fallen in love with: the one with the dimples that lit up the room and happened so rarely.

 

 To Nasir's complete shock and embarassment Agron grabbed his legs out from under him and lifted him up bridal style.

 

 “Well, let us go to dinner!” he loudly declared.

 

 Nasir tried to fight down the blush he felt as the securtiy guard made absolutely no attempt to be subtle about watching them.

 

 He smacked Agron's chest. “Put me down you oaf!!”

 

 “Not until you agree to come to dinner so that I can make up for spoiling our evening!”

 

 “YES!!! NOW PUT ME DOWN!!” Nasir cried, ineffectually kicking and squirming to try and break Agron's hold. It was like being grabbed by a marble statue.

 

 Agron kissed him hard and then gently deposited his boyfriend back on his feet before taking his hand again.

 

 "Ànd now! We go to supper. Afterwards: we fuck!” he practically yelled.

  
   
 Nasir laughed. “Forget supper! Let's order in afterwards.”

 

 Agron grabbed him for another kiss which lasted longer than was maybe appropriate in the lobby of the building where they both worked.

 

 “Come now, before we give my colleague a free show...” Agron suggested.

 Nasir stuck his hand in the back pocket Agron's jeans as the taller man slung an arm around his shoulders.   
 Who cared about secrets? The universe had obviously meant for them to be together since, for the first time in a long time, he fit perfectly right where he was.

 

 

 Agron came home with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. The song may have been “My cock rages on!” the favourite from the bad old days but it still _totally_ counted.

 

He spent a lot of nights at Nasir's place, these days, it may be smaller and often filled with Chadara but unlike the loft Agron was living in it rarely contained judgemental muscle bound idiots who insisted on trying to give his boyfriend the shovel talk (for the 15th time).

  
 Agron understood that Donar and Lugo were just trying to look out for him but it didn't change the fact that it was a) creepy the level of detail they went into and b) unnecessary.

 

 He turned around to hang his coat up and found Spartacus sitting on the couch watching him appraisingly.

 

 “You seem happy.” Spartacus remarked.

 

 Agron blushed. “I am.”

 

 Spartacus nodded and pursed his lips. “On account of the wild little dog?”

 

 “Are you always planning to call him that?” Asked Agron.

  
   
 “You all still insist on calling me 'Spartacus' even though that is-”

 

 “Not your name.” Agron finished for him.

 

 Spartacus shifted forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I'm sorry to ruin your happiness my friend. I find it suits you and I'm glad to see that one of you have managed to build something for yourselves.”

 

 Agrons gulped and nodded slowly. He knew he was the success story. Gannicus was drinking, fucking and taking anything in his attempts to find an even keel. Lugo's behaviour at work was causing problems even Spartacus was having trouble smoothing over. Oenomaus was having trouble coping with the world at large and was socially ostracized within their group of survivors. The only word in Crixus' vocabulary might as well be “Naevia”, though he at least was doing well in his job. Agron was the only one who really seemed to be leaving that nightmare behind him.

 

 “The date for the trial has been set.” Spartacus declared after a pause.

 

 “Will Crixus testafy?”

 

 Spartacus shrugged. “We have a lead on Naevia so perhaps he will agree in the 11th hour if we can get to her but as things stand? No.”

 

 Agron felt tense, and sick to his stomach. There was enough evidence to put Batiatus away for one thing or another, but his accomplices receiving true justice hung on the word of a cop, a junkie, a man so fucked up he had spent more than a year not talking at all. Not to mention Agron who was lucky not to be injail himself for Grievous Bodily Harm after one of his many outbursts when they'd first gotten out.

 

 It was terrifying. The bastards might get away with it.

 

 Spartacus was giving him that deep all knowing gaze.

 

 “How much does he know? Your Syrian” he said finally.

 

 Agron shrugged. “He knows there's things I'd rather not talk about.”

 

 Spartacus raised his eyebrows and let out a long breath. “Tell him. Tell him now. This was a high-profile case when we made the arrests. It's going to be even higher profile with all the sordid details recounted in court. Tell him or he'll find out.”

 

 Agron leaned against the wall. He felt like crying but he hadn't cried in a long time.

  
   
 “I don't want him looking at me like that.” He said in a small voice.

 

 Spartacus looked like he understood. Spartacus always managed to understand the important stuff. Hell, the man managed to understand _Crixus_ and even seemed to like the man.

 

 “You could lose him either way. The trials in a couple of months. The sooner you tell him the more you can get him used to the idea before he starts hearing that awful shit.” Spartacus pointed out.

 

 Agron nodded. “I'll tell him in a week. I just want one more week of things being good.”

 

 Spartacus stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “Very well my friend. I wish you luck.”

 

 Agron waved at him half-heartedly over his shoulder.

 

 How the fuck was he going to have _this_ conversation?

 

In a fit of spontaneity that he immediately regrets Nasir decided to skip out of work early (a feat that required a nearly military genius level of tactical skill and planning) to go surprise Agron.   
   
 He walked into the apartment to find Gannicus and Oenomaus on the couch. Gannicus was curled up into a ball with his head on the older man's lap. Oenomaus was stroking his hair.

 

 Nasir paused at the door unsure if he should just turn around and leave. It was an oddly intimate scene.

 

 Oenomaus nodded to him and Nasir cautiously edged further into the room.

 

 “Your German is not here.” Oenomaus said solemnly.

 

 Nasir nodded and jerked his chin at Gannicus. “Is he your German?” he asked jokingly.

 

 Oenomaus smiled. It looked very strange on his face, as though the muscles weren't used to pulling that way anymore.

 “No. He is Czech.”

 

 Nasir laughed and then cut himself off not wanting to wake the sleeper.

 

 Oenomaus looked at him fondly. “Do not worry. Gannicus rarely sleeps but when he does it is very deeply.”

 

 “Insomnia?”

 

 “In part. You are Agron's, so you must understand that we all have dealt with those dark times in our own ways and at our own pace. Agron had his rage and now has his attempts to leave it behind. Gannicus...tsk.” Oenomaus trailed off seemingly at a loss for words. “Gannicus tries to make it not matter that he lived that way for so long. He surrounds himself with cheap thrills, and cheaper women. But he trusts no one.”

 

 Nasir tried to hide his shock. This was more about Agron's past in 2 minutes than he'd learned in the last 6 months.

 

 “He trusts you.” Nasir finally managed to stammer out. Because it was obvious from the way that Gannicu curled towards the older man that he felt safe.

 

 “I alone have never failed him. Besides, my wife and I took him under our wing long ago. Even though she is gone and it ended so terribly, I know Melitta would never forgive me if I let him flounder.”

 

 “Melita?” Nasir questioned.

 

 “My wife.” Oenomaus replied.

 

 Gannicus made a soft noise in his sleep and seemed to curl tighter in on himself. Oenomaus gently stroked his arm until the man relaxed again.

 

 “What did you do?...To cope with the dark time, I mean.” Nasir asked, knowing he should leave well enough alone but unable to resist his curiousity.

 

 “Descended into solitude. I did not speak for months, nearly a year. It didn't even matter. The men don't like me, even if they do respect me. They hold me complicit to the atrocities they suffered....Perhaps they are right to do so....And then Gannicus came looking for me and I did not wish to let him down.” Oenomaus explained.

 

 Nasir nodded. This was...this was starting to sound even worse than he had imagined.

  
   
 Oenomaus looked at him. There was something formidable in that glance, even as it came from a man with a lapful of drunken blonde.   
 “We all think Agron very brave for trusting you. Men like us rarely trust again. The rest of us remain within our brotherhood of Batiatus, or befriend those we meet in the support groups.”

 

 “What support groups? Agron's never mentioned...”

 

 “No, he refuses to attend. Perhaps you can convince him otherwise. They've certainly helped Gannicus. There's this nice little thing called Sybil he's been circling around. Poor boy doesn't have the least clue what to do he likes her so much.” Oenomaus confided his solemn nature cracking under michevious desire to embarass his friend.

 

 Agron walked through the door then, wet from a shower and carrying a gym bag.

 

 He dropped it in surprise. “Nasir!” He grinned. “I did not expect you to be here.” He held out his arms and Nasir got up to return his hug.

 

 “I wanted to surprise you.” Nasir explained.

 

 “Come and sit with me while I get cleaned up.” Agron offered, picking his gym bag up again.

 

 Nasir followed Agron back through to his mess of a bedroom. He perched on the bed awkwardly as Agron began tossing his gym clothes out of the bag and rummaging through his drawers for something a bit more put together than a ratty old t-shirt and jeans.

 

 “So, I had an interesting talk with Oenomaus while I was waiting.” Nasir said.

 

 Agron froze but tried to cover it. “That's odd. He rarely speaks much.”

 

 “I think he was trapped by Gannicus sleeping on him and hoped to pass the time. He told me some interesting things.” Nasir continued, watching his boyfriend's reaction very closely.

 

 Agron had taken his shirt off and Nasir's eye traced the deep scar that ran down his back.   
 

  
 “I know I've never asked but I think I need to now Agron. He...I'm...It sounds like it was just so...I need to know what I'm getting into to by being with you. I need to know what happened.” He finally said.

 

 Agron threw the shirt he was holding at the wall. “FUCK!!!” he screamed.

 

 Nasir flinched. Agron looked so angry and so hurt.

 

 “Why does it fucking matter?! What cause is there in knowing?! It changes NOTHING!!” Agron demanded.

 

 Agron threw himself onto the bed so he was lying on his stomach looking up at Nasir.

  
   
 “You need know only this: I love you, and God himself would have cause to fear should he try and wrest you from my arms.” Agron pleaded.

 

 Nasir blinked back tears. “Why does Oenomaus say your rage was your escape from what happened and you are brave for seeking love outside of your brotherhood? What happed to you Agron?” he asked.

 

 Agron huffed and bent down to cover his face with his hands. “Because, I...there was a time where I and all my brothers knew nothing but cruelty. We were violent to one another but cruelty was the realm of the outsider. Not us. Once you belonged...”

 

 Nasir saw Agron's shoulders begin to shake.

 

 “The House of Batiatus. It was... a few years ago. Find out about it. Then take some time. If you're still interested in this after the trial... call me.” he whispered his voice breaking ever few words.

 

 Nasir reached over and began to card his fingers through Agron's hair. “I thought God himself could not wrest me from you. Now you let me go.” he murmured sofly. “I didn't say I wan't to leave you. I just want to know what happened to you. I want to help.”

 

 Agron sniffed but did not look up. “I have to let you go. You're a wild little dog and you cannot cage a wild thing.”

  
   
 Nasir pulled Agron up and wrapped his arms around the giant, holding him as tight as he could. He could feel where Agron's tears dampened his shoulder.

 

 “I am not caged. I will not leave you.”

 

 Agron snuffled. “You have fashion week coming up. I have a trial that will be beginning soon. Find out what you need to and call me if you're still interested.”

 

 Nasir kissed Agron and hard and as passionately as he could. “I don't want to lose this.” He confessed.

 

 “Than call me in a few months.” Agron replied.

 

 “Why can't I just look this up and then come back and talk to you? I don't think I need a few months...” Nasir pleaded.

 

 Agron made a choking sound. “I ca-..I can't talk about it, and I think you're going to need some time to really...The trial's going to be hell, I won't be able to do it if I'm worrying you'll chicken out half way through. Wait till it's over. Remember: The House of Batiatus.”

 

 

  
 When he got home Nasir typed “The House of Batiatus” into Google and, slowly, with increasing horror, reads through the results.

 

 There's pages and pages of search results. Apparently it was part of a human trafficking bust- something really dramatic with a cop spending more than a year undercover. Almost 20 men had been chained up in a basement, 'modern day gladiators' frequently forced to fight to the death, or lent out and forced to perform sexual favours.

 

 Suddenly a pictures flashed up and Nasir clicked to enlarge it.

 

 It's Agron. Muddy, bloody and practically naked, clutching a young man to his chest, his face a  mask of grief and rage. He's being led out of a building. The caption reads: "One of the victims holds the body of a young man who was murdered as the police began their raid".

 

 Nasir thinks he's going to be sick. Because that must be Agron with Duro. It has to be.

 

 It's a horror story. Something from the days of Rome. Spartacus the cop makes sense now. He freed them. His true identity not one his friends had learned until they were free.

 

 There was a buzz from the intercom. Nasir jumped at the sound  Nasir got up to press the buzzer.

 

 “It's Spartacus, I'd like to talk to you Nasir.” Nasir let him in.

 

 It's only the second time he's met the man. The first time involved assault with warm beverages, like their first meeting he's in uniform. He's got the hat and everything.

 

 “Hello, Nasir. May I come in?” Spartacus asked.

 

 Nasir nodded and opened the door wider to let him through. He didn't say anything, just leaned against the fridge and raised his eyebrows at the cop.

 

 “I understand Agron has spoken to you of his past?” Spartacus asked.

 

 “No. He gave me a name and told me to find things out for myself.”

 

 Spartacus nodded and gestured towards the couch. “May I?”

 

 Nasir nodded but didn't move to sit down himself.

 

 “Well, there's no point beating around the bush, have you looked it up?” Spartacus asked bluntly.

 

 Nasir nodded, he had to blink a few times to keep from crying. Spartacus sighed and looked at him as if he understood.

 

 “It was truly terrible. A crime of...unspeakable proportions. Made worse by knowing that though we took down one group, the system as a whole persists.”

 

 Nasir finally sat gingerly on the arm chair across from Spartacus.

  
   
 “I don'--” he started but couldn't find any words and so cut himself off.

 

 “I have come here against Agron's wishes. He feels you ought to be left alone to...make a choice, but I advise you not to take this choice lightly. Agron is...Agron is doing very well. We're all proud of him and...I worry that if you came back and found after a time that you were not equal to the task, it would hurt him much more than if you chose not to return at all.” Spartacus explained.

 

 Nasir nodded.

 

 “You have treated him well so far, but know that if you are cruel or careless in what comes next I will not be able to prevent Agron's brothers from exacting vengeance on you.” Spartacus added.

 

 Nasir gulped remembering the line of grim faced men who'd met him at the door on his first visit to Agron's apartment.

  
  Spartacus trailed off and stared at Nasir for a long moment.

The Syrian was accutely aware that Spartacus was the one who had been keeping these poor men afloat for the last few years. He was the one who'd been there for Agron. He was the one who, should Nasir break Agron's heart, would have to pick up the pieces.

 

 Nasir licked his lips and finally managed to find the words. “I'm not going to hurt him. I would never do that intentionally but, I don't know what I should do, or how I can...” he shook his head. “I guess I just don't know.”

 

 Spartacus nodded in understanding. “When you do. Let me know. Either way.” He stood up. “Well, I'll leave you now."

 Nasir nodded and put his head in his hands.

 

 

 Nasir doesn't call Agron that night. He should, but the trial is starting and if he's honest he's afraid he'll learn something he can't look past. Spartacus had made him wary of jumping back in before he's 100% sure he can take all the shit that might get thrown at him.

 

 He threw himself into work. Patterns and collections and photo shoots. Perfectly ordered coffee and appointments that always were on schedule. Licinia even looked at him like she was mildly impressed.

 

 It's terrible to see Agron at work but not to  _see_ Agron. Nasir just doesn't know what to say. Agron bless his burly heart doesn't say anything either, just waved him through with a soft smile. He even let him go by a couple times without demanding to see ID.

 

 When the trial started and people started reporting on the testimonies the escaped men were giving it was as bad as Nasir feared and worse.

 

 The man Nasir dumped coffee on for being rude spent his entire life being considered property. He was raped and beaten and when he dared to fall in love the girl was sold off to one of the worst brothels out of spite and he was whipped within an inch of his life.

 

 Gannicus was forced to rape one of two people in the world who treated him as family. He drank and did whatever drugs they'd give him but when she died it was too much and he managed to escape. The guilt of not trying to help the people he left behind has been eating him alive ever since.

 

 Oenomaus acted as a trainer for the men. He had considered it an honour to break them down and build them up into something new.

 

 Spartacus was forced to kill his partner in the undercover operation on the whim of a demented and cruel child or risk exposing himself and having them both die.

 

 There are more stories. Just as bad or worse. A man was murdered over a misunderstanding. A boy he'd been protecting then began to be regularly raped by another prisoner, and hung himself. One prisoner turned against his fellows and helped their master torment them. On and on. It seems the house of Batiatus was an unending source of pain and suffering.

 

 Nasir found he could hardly work he was so distracted, waiting in horror and anticipation for the day Agron's testimony would begin.

 

 Finally Agron took the stand. Nasir considered watching the news, or reading the blogs but in the end he decided he just couldn't. He couldn't listen to all the terrible things that happened to his boyfriend with the image of him barely out of his teens with those ridiculous dreadlocks screaming as he held his brother's body seared into his brain.

 

Agron was strong and smart and kind and had a terrible attitude and a worse sense of humour. He was secretly a romantic and no matter how hard he tried he was never going to really understand fashion.

 

 Nasir didn't want to know all the things that had happened to make the younger version of the man he loved scream. 

 

 He just couldn't. That one picture had been plenty.

 

 

   
 Agron spent what felt like a year on the stand. He was relieved to see that Spartacus was waiting for him as he exited the court.

 

 “Well done my friend.” Spartacus solemnly declared.

 

 Agron leaned against the wall for a second. He didn't know what he was feeling or what he might do. It seemed equal odds that he'd kill someone or spend the day crying.

 

 “Ahem.” a familiar voice said.

 

 Agron's head whipped around.

 

 Nasir was sitting on one of the wooden benches in the hall looking about as bad as Agron felt.

 

 “Apologies.”  Nasir croaked.

 

 Agron stood there speechless. That was his line.

 

It was the first time (outside of the bedroom) that he'd seen Nasir looking anything less than perfectly put together. He looked like he'd hardly slept in weeks, his hair was sloppily tied back out of his face and he was in sweats and a t-shirt.

 

 Agron meanwhile felt like he was suffocating in his suit and tie.

 

 Nasir stood up. “I should have been here for the last month.” he confessed. “I'm so sorry that I made you do this alone.”

 

 Agron gaped. “Today's Thursday. Licinia has her runthroughs on Thursdays and she likes you to be there to take notes because she still doesn't trust Chadara and thinks she steals things from the office.” He croaked, still not believing that Nasir was there. That Nasir really had come back.

 

 “Licinia can fend for herself for once. I didn't want you to have to today.” Nasir explained gently.

 

 “Were you in there?” Agron asked suddenly terrified that Nasir had been in the courtroom and heard the humiliating questions the defense lawyer had asked him.

 

 Nasir shook his head. “I didn't want to know. If you need to tell me that's okay, I'll listen but, it's your story, I shouldn't have made demands on it like I did.”

 

 Agron took a step forward.

 

 Nasir met him halfway and wrapped his arms around him.

 

 “You'll be alright big guy. I'm here to protect you now.” Nasir promised.

 

 Agron was shocked into a laugh. “Wielding perfectly tailored clothes and scalding my enemies with coffee. Very reassuring.”

 

 Nasir leaned up on tiptoe and kissed his boyfriend on his cheek. “Yup, and don't you forget it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we are! The end! I hope it didn't feel like it was too abrupt. Also, please note that neither Agron or Nasir are perfect and maybe the two of them could have handled the whole thing better, but I didn't want to oversell their relationship. I thought it was important that both of them really take a bit of time to consider what they'd be committing to. 
> 
> Also, apologies for the lack of smut. I figured it was better to leave it out than subject you to my laughable writing. Just...trust me it's better this way.


	3. Ending up Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Nasir shows up at the courthouse, he tries to look after Agron. 
> 
> Agron, meanwhile, tries to face his past and comes to grips with his future.

Agron doesn't know what possesses them to go and eat at a greasy spoon, other than he's pretty much only functioning at primal levels and the way Nasir is looking at him he'd have agreed to take the ferry to the Statue of Liberty if that's what Agron had suggested.

 

He regrets going out to eat almost immediately. He feels exposed and vulnerable in a way that he hasn't in years. He feels awkward and too big sitting in the booth across from Nasir and his suit doesn't fit right.

 

He feels like everyone is staring at him. Like they were in the court room and heard everything he said and everything that stupid shit-eating defense lawyer had insinuated about him.

 

He doesn't realize he's been sitting staring into space until he feels Nasir grab his hand.

 

That brings him back to the present, partly because Nasir is looking so...off. His hair is slowly coming out of the messy bun he'd thrown it into and is now a bit lopsided.

He's wearing sweats and a t-shirt that's a couple sizes too big. He doesn't look like himself any more than Agron does.

 

Agron wants to put his head in his hands and sob.

 

Nasir strokes his thumb across a knuckle.

 

“Do you want to leave?” he asks.

 

Agron shakes his head mutely. He doesn't want to take this home. Home has been safe, the first place that he'd been safe in so long. He doesn't want to associate the loft with what happened today in the court.

 

“Are you sure?” Nasir presses.

 

Agron tries to glare at him. He knows that's what Nasir is expecting but even as he moves to do so his eyes fill with tears unbidden.

 

“Fuck.” he growls, dropping his head into his hands in defeat.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nasir asks, tentatively.

 

Agron feels a swell of anger at that. “All I've done for days is talk about it and talk about it!” he yells without meaning to. The heads of the other customers all turn to stare for real at that.

 

He winces and stares at the table. The waitress brings over the coffees they ordered and gives them a very funny look.

 

“I meant about the trial.” Nasir says once she is gone.

 

Agron shrugs. “Oh, it was fucking wonderful, I had to talk in great detail about all the shit that life has poured on me for two days and then! Then I got to have some smug blonde fuck crucify me on the stand. Asking me insulting and condescending questions and making it seem like it was all my fucking fault or-” He cuts himself off because otherwise he's going to end up sobbing or screaming in a fucking dinner and he'd rather neither of those options happened.

 

Agron takes a gulp of the truly god awful coffee and grimaces. He'd lost his taste for it in that god damn basement.

 

The waitress comes back to take their order. Agron can't bring himself to say anything so after a long pause. Nasir orders him a western omlette with extra cheese and bacon and hashbrowns on the side. Nasir gets blueberry pancakes.

 

Agron has never been so upset that he won't eat. So he methodically clears his plate when it comes. He doesn't look at Nasir, who is staring at him in silence and picking at his pancakes.

 

Nasir doesn't say anything for the rest of the meal. Agron gets the uneaten pancakes boxed up to take home, because there is a special place in hell for people who waste perfectly good food.

 

Nasir half-jogs along next to him as he stalks down the street and grabs his hand, giving it a squeeze.

 

There's a long moment of silence as they walk hand-in-hand before Nasir speaks up.

 

“So, now that we are in an official serious committed relationship, does that mean that I'm allowed to buy clothes for you?” he blurts out.

 

“What?” It's such a strange out of the blue question that it actually startles a laugh out of Agron.

 

“Yeah, because, darling, I never thought I'd say this but, you are a man who was not meant to wear suits. It just does absolutely nothing for you.”

 

Agron finds himself chuckling. Nasir looks awfully pleased with himself.

 

“And, I understand the gym clothes, I do, but I think you don't need to wear them _all_ the time.”

 

Agron can't stop laughing.

 

Obviously bolstered by this, Nasir continues. “I've been thinking that some nice textured material would be great on you, earth tones, you know? And I was thinking I'd see if I could get you some nicer necklaces and things- in leather instead of that synthetic stuff you have?”

 

“By earth tones do you mean brown?” Agron giggles.

 

“More like muted reds, and purples, maybe green? But, the important thing is the texture for you, I think. Nothing too smooth, or synthetic. Natural fibres. God, you'd be positively deadly in a decently tailored pair of canvas slacks...”

 

Nasir gives a little skip as he explains it all. “Silver jewelry only, I think, you're not dark enough for gold. It would make you look yellow. Lot's of belts and buckles, manly man type stuff. It's a shame about sizing though, you're much too tall for me to steal things from work for..” Agron knows he's grinning like a moron but he can't help it.

 

He pulls Nasir closer and kisses him soundly.

 

Nasir smiles softly at him. “You know I'm going to take this conversation as permission to dress you, right?”

 

Agron suddenly thinks he's going to cry again. “For you I'd wear bright fushia and cheer for Britain in the world cup.”

 

Nasir looks like _he_ might cry now. “If that's not a declaration of undying devotion I don't know what is.”

 

Agron slings both his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders and keeps walking home (okay it's a bit more of a shuffle because it's hard to walk like that).

 

Nasir smiles up at him shakes his head and steers them to the subway and his apartment.

 

They make it to his place and are tucked up in bed with some Jimmy Fallon on when the day comes crashing back down on Agron and he finds himself curls up and crying on Nasir's shoulder.

 

“Shh..it's okay..”Nasir whispers.

 

“Just...you have no idea what it felt like having to stand up there and have him say those things...and what if it was all for nothing?! Batiatus is dead. The direct evidence against Glaber and the rest of this ring is a bit sketchy.” Agron lifts his head and stares Nasir in the eyes.  “What if they get away with it?”

 

Nasir gulps, his throat suddenly dry. “Well, I'm guessing the Brotherhood will show up at their door and no one will ever find the bodies.” He tries to joke.

 

“That's not funny Nasir!” Agron shouts. “Lugo and Donar might be stupid enough to actually try that! Don't even joke about it, okay?”

 

Nasir winces and watches Jimmy Fallon's energetic lipsinking for a minute as he strokes Agron's shoulder.

 

Finally he says: “If they walk then they walk and you and Crixus and Gannicus and Oenomaus will know you did every fucking thing you could to get them. You'll know that if they get away with it it won't be because you weren't brave enough to go to court and have an evil defense lawyer tear into you.”

 

"Well, you're right about that little blonde cunt being fucking evil."

 

"I'm glad that this highly emotional day has not robbed you of your ability to swear colourfully and creatively." Nasir responds dryly.

 

Agron tries to smile at that and rests his head back down on Nasir's shoulder.

 

There's another long pause where they both watch Jimmy perform near acrobatic dance moves while singing a 90's rap song.

 

“So, tell me more about this new look you've got planned for me. You haven't mentioned shoes at all”. Agron finally says.

 

Nasir forces a smiles, and starts talking about leather detailing and how it's a shame men can't wear flats like women because Agron is too tall already without adding the thick soles that are on most boots.

 

Agron doesn't laugh like he did earlier but he falls asleep somewhere between Nasir's explanation of the qualities that define a loafer and his declaration of a heartfelt desire to see spats make a comeback.

 

And that's something, Nasir thinks as he turns off the light and snuggles in closer, that's good.

 

They've got each other.

 

For now, that's _more_ than enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't fully satisfied with where I left the last chapter. I've been mulling it over and just couldn't find a way to resolve it that I liked. 
> 
> Then, I had a flash of inspiration: Nasir making plans on how he's going to redesign Agron's wardrobe as a way of lightening the mood. 
> 
> So, I wrote that. I'm still not quite happy with how I'm leaving things but I think it's better than the previous end point. But, I hope people like it anyway. 
> 
> Caesar is the defense lawyer btw, working at Crassus & Sons law firm.


	4. An Interlude at Runway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir goes back to work. 
> 
> Castus tries to look out for him. 
> 
> Chadara has gotten into trouble

 

The next day begins, as usual, with Nasir scrambling out of bed at 5:45 to try and assemble his outfit, pack his lunch and, most importantly, assemble an outfit worthy of one of Licinia's impressed raised eyebrows.

 

Of course, it's that much harder getting out of bed when you're snuggled up close to an enormous emotionally traumatized teddy bear who is disguised as your boyfriend. But, Nasir, bravely manages to pry Agron's arms off and slip out into the kitchen to eat his yogurt and granola breakfast.

 

When he comes back into change Agron is sitting up looking distinctly unhappy, but doesn't say anything. Nasir decides to let it lie, for now.

 

As he puts his finishing touches on his outfit (a tiny tiny hint of gold shimmer on his eye lids and a rather spectacularly awesome turquoise ring), Agron grunts out: “Ray of sunshine?”

 

Nasir laughs and darts over to the bed to kiss his cheek. “Wrong again! You'll get it right one day.”

With that he grabs his bag and is about to disappear out the door when he hesitates.

 

“You will be okay by yourself won't you? I could-”

 

“I am not some child, Nasir.” Agron grumbles. “Go.” he tries to wave him out the door. “Licinia may have your head as it is.”

 

Nasir grimaces. He's really trying to avoid thinking about that. “At least try and go back to sleep.”

 

Agron just shakes his head. “No point. I'll be at the gym all day I think. I need to hurt something.”

 

Nasir gulps, _that_ didn't sound ominous _at all_ , but heads out the door anyway.

 

He arrives just in the nick of time- leaping into his seat as the elevator doors open to reveal Licinia in all her plucked and coifed glory.

 

The look she shoots him is disdainful at best but, really he expects no less given he pretty much bailed on one of the most important days of the week for her.

 

However, Nasir doesn't realise just how deep in shit he is until 8:27 rolls around and Chadara has still not appeared. Now, it's not unusual for her to be a bit late. Sometimes (constantly) Licinia has her out of bed and running errands before the doors to the building are even unlocked, so she appears breathless and terrified at 8:25 trying to run in six-inch heels while carrying a dozen packages that Licinia has deemed essential to the smooth running of the day.

 

But, it's 8:32 now and Chadara has not appeared and there's been no panicked phone call as she attempts to bribe a doorman into giving her the home phone number of the top buyer for Barney's.

 

Which is not good, because now _Nasir_ is starting to panic.  Licinia's imperious tone echoes through the office.

 

“NASIR!!!” she shrieks.

 

The way everyone in view winces at that does nothing to alleviate the terror that is currently gripping his heart.

 

But, he stands and, feeling as though he's walking to his executiong, tries to walk as confidently as he can into her office.

 

She, typically, does not even look up from whatever is on her desk right away. It used to intimidate Nasir when she did that but now he sees it for the transparent manipulation that it is.

 

Finally, she looks up and stares at him.

 

“Nasir.” She says again.

 

He gulps. He can't help it, it's involuntary. It's subtle but it's a show of weakness and it's enough to prompt Licinia to go in for the kill.

 

“Nasir, in the past I have always considered you an exemplary employee of this magazine. You have consistantly proved your commitment and dedication to this publication and to my vision, which is why it's so very very hurtful that you should...betray the trust and faith that I have put in you by cavalierly ignoring your responsibilities.”

 

“I'm so sorry Licinia, it was a personal emergency I-”

 

“Your excuses do not interest me Nasir.”

 

Nasir tenses, bracing himself for the moment when she tells him it's over, pack his desk, the dream he's been chasing since he was 15 is dead and he'd better pray he can work as a stock boy at the Gap by the time Licinia is done with him.

 

“No...” she continues. “I am not interested in your excuses. However, given your outstanding performance I have chosen...to give you the benefit of the doubt. And there is no question that the day would not have been such a disaster if you're support had not been so woefully incompetant.

But. Should you ever dissapoint me in this fasion again, I will not be so understanding. Is that understood?”

 

Nasir nods frantically. “Yes, Licinia. Thank you Licinia.”

 

Her gaze has returned to her work and she flicks her hand to dismiss him without looking up. “That's all.”

 

Relieved and terrified and feeling like he needs to breathe into a paper bag for a bit, Nasir collapses down into his chair and it takes all his self control not to put his head between his knees and take deep calming breathes.

 

It had seemed like a completely necessary thing to do yesterday. Take a personal day and just, face the fact that as much as the idea of having to help shoulder the weight of Agron's past was terrifying, the idea that something bad might happen to Agron because Nasir was too much of a cowardly chicken shit to help him was horrifying and would haunt him for the rest of his life.

 

So, he'd planned to show up and be there for Agron. Of course, in the end he hadn't been able to face hearing Agron's testimony (the photo of Agron bloody and screaming was permanently etched into his retinas). Instead, he'd sat on that bench outside the court all day hoping and dreading the moment that Agron walked out.

 

Now, he's not so sure about that choice. Yes, he's absolutely sure it was the right thing to do, but part of him can't help the twinge of regret that he's so badly damaged his standing with Licinia because of it. But, that's not the worst of it though.

 

He's afraid that by acting the romantic hero he's cost Chadara her job. The more he thinks about it the more it seems likely. Chadara is still new to the position of Second-assistant to the Editor-in-Chief but, she's gotten so that she can sail through a regular day with an exterior appearance of poise and grace. Anything more taxing than the ordinary and she still has a tendency to panic and make mistakes that Nasir has to cover for.

 

If he wasn't there and she panicked and tried to do his job as well as hers.... she probably would have done more harm than good.

 

Nasir is going over Licinia's spending for this quarter and quietly freaking out when Castus appears from down the hallway.

 

Castus is one of the few other men who work at Runway and he is some kind of fine and fierce and Nasir honestly has the biggest case of fashion envy when it comes to him.

 

Nasir can pull off cute, and maybe a bit sexy and on certain days manages to add a soupson of dangerous in there, but Castus...Castus always looks badass and fierce and fabulous and too sexy to live all at once.

 

It's kind of a crime against humanity, looking that good.

 

However, such beauty can be a curse and in Castus' case the curse is that he seems to think that he can have sex with whoever he wants without consequences and views relationships as laughable delusions.

 

The dude is kind of like a magnificent sexy pirate. Except the only thing he's steals is your significant other and your dignity.

 

Nasir would like to judge the people who Castus sleeps with but he's been there and done that and so has lost the moral high ground.

 

“Nasir!” Castus says. He does not smile the 'come-hither' smile which is reassuring. “Are you doing okay?”

 

Nasir knows his smile looks fake and brittle. “I'm fine- just fine.”

 

“It's just I know Chadara's your friend and I figured what happened might have rattled you.”

 

Even though he knew it was coming it's not easy to hear that.   
  


“What happened?”

 

Castus glances nervously towards the window that seperates Nasir's desk from Licinia's office and then mouths. “I'll tell you at lunch.” before fleeing down the hallway in terror.

 

It feels like a horror movie when Nasir turns around to lock eyes with Licinia who is staring at him with a look that ought to melt the flesh off his face.

 

He ducks his head and hurriedly resumes reviewing her expenses.

 

At 12:15 sharp he books it to the cafeteria and practically throws himself into the chair in front of Castus, who even makes eating celery while being unimpressed with someone look good.

 

“What happened?!”

 

Castus shrugs and shakes his head. “Chadara did that thing where she freaks out and pretends she knows what she's doing but really she has no clue.”

 

“Oh no, she didn't-”

 

“She fucked up the schedule. And the run through. Like, monumentally. Licinia pretty much grabbed her around the neck and threw her out of the room. Literally grabbed her neck and threw her out. It was terrifying.”

 

Nasir takes a bite of his quinoa salad and points his fork at Castus. “How do you know this.”

 

“I was there. It was a traumatic fucking experience. My life flashed before my eyes, I though she was gonna stab me with a Louboutin shoe.”

 

“Why were you there?”

 

“Heracleo has some pieces in this issue. He still loves me.”

 

“He never fucking loved you.”

 

“He'll _always_ fucking love me.”

 

Nasir sighs and pokes dejectedly at his salad. The problem with hanging out with muscle headed manly-men jocks was that suddenly the healthy options you were used to paled in the face of delicious but unhealthy and figure ruining food.

 

“So, where the hell were you?” Castus asks.

 

Nasir glances up sharply. Castus may be trying to play it cool but it's obvious he's on edge about it.

 

“I needed to take an emotional snowday.”

 

Castus actually guffaws. “You left your girl hanging and she nearly died because your delicate feelings were hurt?”   
  


“No!”

 

“Well, what then? This job is the most important thing in your life!! I don't understand how you can possibly jeapodize it like that!!”

 

Nasir grits his teeth. “It is none of your business.”

 

“I had to throw myself between the lioness and the wounded gazelle! It's my fucking business.” Castus argues

 

Nasir bites his lip and looks away.

 

“Oh fuck.” Castus practically shrieks. “It was about that evil giant security guard you have a thing with!!!”

 

“His name is Agron.”   
  


“I knew it!!”

 

“He is not evil.”

 

“If he makes you miss work and Chadara nearly dies, than he's evil.”

 

“Oh, Shut the FUCK up Castus!! You don't know what you're talking about!! She didn't nearly fucking die!! She's fine. You're not traumatized you cunt!! Licinia yelled and was mean. I didn't come to work because I needed to be there for Agron okay? It was fucking important.” Nasir yells, finally losing his patience.

 

Castus' face is caught somewhere between surprise and disgust. “I can't believe you started dating him again. He's trash Nasir. You know it, I know it and he knows it. He's not good enough for you.”

 

“He-!” Nasir cuts himself off when he realizes that this had escalated into a full on screaming match. Glancing around he leans across the table and hisses. “He had to testify at the trial of his baby brother's murderer yesterday, okay? His kid brother was stabbed to death in front of him and he had to go to court to try and put the guy away.” He pauses and glares and then growls. “And so help me god Castus if you insult my boyfriend in front of me again I will break that pretty little face of your's so badly that not even the best surgeon in America will be able to fix you.”

 

He leans back and calmly stares Castus in the eye. “Are we clear?

 

Castus gulps. “We're clear.”

 

Nasir nods and stabs his quinoa slighlty more viciously than necessary.

 

Just when he thinks he's going to make it through this lunch without any acts of violence, Castus huffs and grumbles. “I just don't see why you're wasting your time with that guy is all.”

 

Nasir opens his mouth to verbally smack him down but Castus holds up his hands. “No, no hear me out! I just wanna understand okay?...He's handsome, yeah, and tall and seems to be in good shape- all points in his favour and excellent reasons for you to bang him. But, he's a security guard, he always seems so mean, he broke up with you and made you miserable beyond belief. I always got this like backwoods yokel hillbilly vibe off the guy...and now, you're telling me he's got a whole bunch of issues and his brother was murdered and you're taking time off work to deal with his shit. Not, to mention I think he's a republican. And...I don't get it man. He doesn't seem like he's really long term relationship material.

You're letting yourself down being with a loser like that. You're going somewhere Nasir. Everyone knows it. That guy? He's not going anywhere.”

 

Nasir feels his throat close up and spends a second blinking back tears.

 

“I guess the fact that he makes me happy and I really really...” he trails off and stares blankly at his god-awful salad. He clears his throat awkwardly. “I guess the fact that I fucking love him doesn't even matter. Or that, he's probably the bravest, strongest person I know, and he's never once made me feel like I'm...” He grimaces and glares up at Castus.

 

“You know what? You can go _straight to hell_ Castus. No all of us view dying alone of venereal disease as a life goal.”

 

He grabs his tray and stalks off, just barely supressing the urge to bash Castus in the face with it as he passes him.

 

“And by the way, he's as far from Hillbilly yokel as you can get- he's from Munich you swine.” Nasir shouts as a parting shot.

 

He dumps the rest of the quinoa in the trash, grabs another cup of coffee and buries his head in his hands as he hides in an out of the way corner.

 

He has t-minus 4 minutes before he has to get back to his desk in front of Licinia's office and he cannot go back there without his game face on- Licinia can smell fear and thrives on it.

 

With a heavy sigh he stands up, girds his loins and prepares to face Licinia.

 

He hopes to god that Agron is having a better day than he is.

 

When he gets home that night it's to find Agron strategically placing 4 packets of frozen peas on his right side as Chadara pours straight vodka onto ice.

 

Nasir groans and leans against the wall. “What the fuck happened?”

 

Agron laughs. “Crixus knocked my into the weight stand at the gym while we were sparing.”

 

“I have to get a new job and a new life and deal with the fact that my boss tried to kill me.”Chadara explains. She raises her glass to him. “Bottoms up.” She downs it in one go and then immediately starts gasping and hacking- Chadara has always been more of a ridiculously sugary sweet drinks kind of girl.

 

Nasir grabs a pepsi from the fridge and hands it to her to chase the vodka.

 

“My day also sucked.” he declares.

 

Agron is immediately sympathetic. “My day was great, I'm sorry to hear yours sucked.”

 

“You got beaten up! How can that be a good day for you?” Nasir sighs exhasperatedly.

 

“Violence sometimes _is_ the answer Nasir.” Agron says solemnly before grabbing Nasir with one arm and trying to pull him closer without dislodging the frozen peas. “Come to the gym with me and I'll show you.” he suggests.

 

Nasir shrugs. “Should you even be working out when you have that shade of purple appearing on your body?” He asks.

 

Agron smiles that perfect goofy smile with the dimples. The one that's nothing like the sculpted sexy perfection of Castus but which makes Nasir's heart flutter more than his ever did.

 

“Tsk, such concerns are for the weak!” Agron hollers.

 

Nasir grins back at him and leans down for a kiss. Chadara knocks back another two fingers of vodka and a swig of cola. Nasir escapes Agron's grasp for just long enough to fetch the pair of them some beers.

 

They clink them together.

 

“Here's to shitty todays and better tomorrows.” Nasir says.

 

“Amen, to that. It's practically the story of my life” Agron replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this?! Another update so soon?! 
> 
> Anyway, I thought this chapter was a nice break from the emotional abuse I've been doling out for the last couple installments. 
> 
> Just so you know- Castus is not trying to be an insensitive prick here, he is genuinely worried about Nasir and the sudden shift in priorities that he's seeing and so is trying to voice his concerns without knowing the full story. 
> 
> Not to mention that Nasir was really upset when Agron broke up with him/decided to take some time apart and it's a fact universally acknowledged that even if you forgive your bf for his bad behaviour your friends and family never will.


	5. Broken Hearts hurt but they make us Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naevia's return is sudden and brings up some unexpected emotions for Agron. Nasir makes a new friend. Donar and Agron duke it out in the ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Speaking in English"

Agron fidgeted nervously on the couch, his leg bouncing incessantly as he stared at the door. Gannicus threw himself into a chair at the kitchen table groaning and clutching his head. After a moment he glanced up and noticed the way Agron's attention was fixed on the door.

 

“The Fuck is wrong with you? You look like a dog waiting for his master's return.” Gannicus drawled.

 

“Nasir comes.” Agron replied.

 

Gannicus frowned. “It's 'Nasir _is_ coming over'. Christ man, you're never gonna learn English at this rate.”

 

Agron scowled. “At least I am not a drunken fool.”

 

Gannicus tried to scowl back but the hangover made it difficult. “You have made your peace with the Syrian than?”

 

Agron nodded. “We go to the gym together.”

 

“'We _are_ going to the gym together'” Gannicus corrected exasperatedly. “And, Germans must truly have shit for brains if your first action upon re-winning the favour of the man you love is to take him to the fucking gym.” Gannicus shook his head. “What the fuck is wrong with you man?”

 

“He wanted to fucking go!!”

 

There was a soft sound behind them and they turned to find Crixus emerging from the fire escape with a bouquet of flowers, a table cloth, and a vase tucked under his arm.

 

Gannicus and Agron both gaped speechlessly at the sight.

 

Crixus picked up Gannicus' chair (with Gannicus still in it) and moved it back away from the table before carefully smoothing the blue and yellow cloth over the scratched top.

 

Then he went to the sink and filled the vase with water before carefully arranging the bouquet on the table.

 

“Gannicus, I fear I have lost fucking mind.” Agron finally managed to choke out. “It seems I see the mighty Crixus arranging fucking flowers.”

 

“You have not lost fucking mind.” Crixus replied, gently moving a daisy to a more aesthetically pleasing location. “Naevia arrives from the hospital today, I would not have her met with anything unworthy of her.”

 

Gannicus and Agron exchanged a look. There were nearly twenty of the Brotherhood living in the building, which had been divided up into seperate apartment-like spaces, however everyone had been renovating and refurbishing at their own pace and according to their own skill, which meant that the areas inhabited by Crixus' crew tended to still be concrete and bare walls with mattresses on the ground.

Agron, Lugo, Donar and Oenomaus in contrast (Gannicus it had been banned by Oenomaus from using power tools) were constantly working on their floor and had managed to turn it into something that, though obviously a former industrial space, was at least more like an apartment than a warehouse.

 

“What makes you think she will be welcomed in my home?” Agron barked, annoyed at Crixus' presumption.

 

“You would have me house her among the likes of Rhaskos?! He is not fitting company for a lady like her. ” Crixus growled turning.

 

“If you could befriend men who were better than wild jackals perhaps you would not need to fear for her!” Agron replied.

 

“It's...” Crixus trailed off and stared at the floor for a moment.

 

Agron paused. “Is it truly for fear of Rhaskos that you would have her live here?” Gannicus asked.

 

“Her time after leaving the house of Batiatus was terribly beyond measure. She flinches from all touch, and is greatly afraid. The men would not try and harm her but, they are rough and violent and would not handle her as gently as she needs.”

 

Agron sighed heavily and glowered sulkily at Gannicus, who was giving him a rather pointed look. “Fine. We will find space for her. Perhaps Donar will sacrifice his room.”

 

“There is no need. I rarely sleep in my bedroom anyway.” Gannicus said with a roguish grin and a wink, as though his room lay empty because of his sexual prowess and not because when he slept alone he usually woke screaming. “Naevia can have it.”

 

Crixus nodded. “Gratitude.”

 

Agron rolled his eyes. “She arrives today?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“But I have fucking plans!!” Agron protested.

 

The look that he received from both Gannicus and Crixus was enough to shut him up.

 

 

 

The anticipation from earlier that morning had faded to disappointment and irritation.

 

Naevia had arrived as promised, and though she'd all but thrown herself at Crixus she'd immediately withdrawn when he tried to kiss her face. She'd smiled and nodded to Gannicus apparently remembering him from his days as the king of the killers. She'd taken one look at Agron and hid behind Crixus though, much to Agron's annoyance.

 

It was sad. Agron _got_ that. It was fucking sad and tugged the heartstrings, but he found that gazing at Naevia only served to further disturb the monsters of his past. Creatures that until the trial had ceased to bother him.

 

_A rough hand grabs his chin and forces it back._

 

_“Hmmm...not bad.” A voice drawls. The man moves over to Duro. Agron hears the clink of the chains as his brother tries to shift away._

 

_“Ah, yes. This one is good. Young enough to have many good years ahead of him.”_

 

 

Agron clenched his fists and his jaw. That was all long ago. Duro was dead and with him the boy from Munich that Agron had once been.

 

Nasir texted him to say he's caught up with things and won't be over until the afternoon.

 

Agron glanced at the kitchen table where Crixus now sat talking to Naevia and gently holding her hand.

 

With a huff he stood and made his way back to his room. Maybe if he was lucky he'd be able to find a German language radio station or some such fucking thing.

 

He missed Duro. He really missed Duro.

 

In the end he sat with Gannicus as the Czech cleared out his few belongings from his room.

 

“What's the matter with you?” the blonde asked as he pondered whether or not to throw out a particularly ugly tie-dyed shirt.

 

Agron shrugged. “Naevia's return.”

 

Gannicus frowned. “But that's great news! She lived! She escaped! Crixus got her back!”

 

Agron nodded. He wasn't close to Gannicus in the same way he was with the other Germans, Donar and Lugo, or the way he was with Spartacus. Neither of them particularly liked or disliked the other, and neither had been present for the others captivity.

 

Oddly enough it was this distance that had allowed them to become friends. Agron could speak to Gannicus almost as freely as if the man were a stranger never to be seen again once the words had passed his lips. It was the same for Gannicus with Agron.

 

There were things that Agron did not wish to speak of with the people he loved. Thoughts and fears and memories which would only weigh down and worry those who cared for him, so he told them to Gannicus in the quiet off-hand moments when they were alone together. And in return Gannicus told Agron the things he could not bear for Oenomaus to know.

 

There was a freedom in being around someone who didn't really give a fuck about you and who you didn't give a fuck about either.

 

“Well?” Gannicus prompted, sensing that Agron had gotten lost in his thoughts.

 

“Naevia returns to Crixus, despite all hope being lost and the years that seperated them. Much as you returned to Oenomaus once.”

 

“Still not getting why you're sad, dude.” Gannicus replied as he sniffed the shirt.

 

“All around me I see those who are reunited with the ones they love. And all I can think of is my brother.”

 

Gannicus clicked his tongue and put the shirt down. “Ah. Yes. That does make sense.”  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You're winning though, in the end. You're doing better than anyone else. You've got that job, and you've got your boy again. You'll leave all this behind you one day. You have a future”

 

Agron thought about that for a moment.

 

“I'd rather have Duro” he declared, before standing and walking out of the room.

 

Agron closed the door to his bedroom, sighed and turned the radio on shifting through the channels in search of the familiar language of home.

 

He ended up settling on a station that faded in and out and where the accents was much too Austrian to really be comforting but it was the best he could find.

 

He wanted to punch something. But, he'd been doing pretty well on the impulsive-blind-rage-violence front lately, and remembering the words of his therapist grabbed the chin up bar he'd installed over the door and hoisted himself up.

 

He was not breaking his streak over the epic love story of Crixus and Naevia. It would be too humiliating to have to explain that.

 

Maybe if he tired himself out he'd just be able to nap until Nasir got here.

 

 

 

Unlike in the days just before their time apart Nasir knocked before he went into Agron's apartment. It was a little weird since he just sort of wandered into the building and up the stairs but it was obvious that Agron's little corner of the building at least was a closed off and seperate apartment from the rest.

 

The door opened to reveal Gannicus looking slightly drunk. He raised both his arms over his head and crowed. “Nasir! How wonderful to see you again. You went away and I thought you'd never come back.”

 

“Well, I did.” Nasir said uncomfortably as Gannicus threw an arm around his shoulder.

 

That was when Nasir noticed the flowers and table cloth in the kitchen. He stared at Gannicus in shock.

 

Gannicus just nodded seriously and explained. “Crixus wanted things to look nice for Naevia. She's living with us.”

 

“But isn't she his one true love?” Nasir replied without thinking and winced as he heard his own words. Agron had made his derision for Crixus' obsession with finding his lost girlfriend very clear. He thought it was silly to put so much stock in a liason that had lasted on a few months and mostly comprised of very very short moments stolen once or twice a week.

 

Gannicus didn't seem to notice and just nodded seriously again. “Yes, and because he loves her to the moon and back he's getting her her own room so she never ever feels pressured by him and is sending her to live among the civilized people and not forcing her to live with the shit-stains he calls friends.”

 

He turned around to face Nasir and put both hands on his shoulders. Standing face to face Nasir could clearly smell the alcohol on his breath.

 

“Love is amazing Nasir. It's really really amazing. No one's ever loved me did you know that?” He explained very _very_ seriously.

 

Thank god, Naevia (or at least Nasir assumed it was Naevia) appeared in that moment because the situation had quickly moved from humorous to wildly uncomfortable.

 

Nasir broke away from Gannicus and smiled holding out a hand. “Hello, I'm Nasir. You must be Naevia.”

 

Naevia nodded, smiled and ducked her head. She was beautiful with eyes and lips that both seemed too big for her face and lovely dark skin, though there was a scar on her forehead and on her cheek.

 

Gannicus staggered over and threw an arm over Nasir's shoulders again. “He's Agron's boy.” he practically shouted.

 

Nasir grimaced as Naevia flinches at his loud voice, but forced a chuckle anyway.

 

“Close Gannicus, I'm his boy _friend_.” Turning to Naevia he continued. “He actually was going to take me to the gym and show me some fighting moves today.”

 

She brightened. “Really? I should like very much to learn to fight.”

 

Nasir smiled back at her.

 

Agron stuck his head out the door to his room. “Nasir? I thought I heard your voice.”

 

He strode over and Nasir frowned to see the perspiration already on his skin and something off in his expression. Had Agron been working out in his room? Even with his side all bruised up?

 

Nasir walked over to him. “Hey, I thought I said to take it easy.”

 

Agron grinned down. “I never said I'd listen.” He leaned down for a kiss and rested a hand against Nasir's cheek.

 

“I see you've met our newest addition. The lovely Naevia, tamer of Crixus.” Agron joked acidly.

 

Nasir frowned. “I think it's nice he'd trying so hard for her. So are we going?” he asked, looking up at Agron.

 

Agron nodded. “Let me just grab my bag.”

 

“Do you want to come?” Nasir asked Naevia. The entire room froze at his words. Agron shot him a look that spoke clearly to how much he did not want to take Naevia. Gannicus looked like he was considering jumping out a window since Crixus would probably not take his girlfriend casually wandering off very well and Naeiva- Naevia looked shocked but also rather pleased. She smiled shyly at Nasir and looked between him and Agron.

 

When she noticed Agron's expression her face fell and she stared at her feet and shook her head.

 

“No. Perhaps another time. I'll have Crixus take me.”

 

Nasir nodded, disappointed but smiled at waved to her as he left. She smiled back at him.

 

 

The gym is Agron's safe place. Which, he knows, given his history, is fucked up. But, the fact of the matter is that he's reassured by the repetition and the strain, The sated feeling at the end of a work-out when he's high on endorphins and his muscles ache, but most importantly the tangible markers of his own strength are what keep him calm.

 

He needs to know he's not helpless. He knows it's irrational- he'd been capable of breaking a man's neck with his bare hands since he was 19 years old and Oenomaus had begrudgingly instructed him in the basic mechanics.

 

He'd _done_ it a month later.

 

It had been such a crowd pleaser that he'd actually had more than one request in a night from patrons wanting him for more...intimate services..which had been a first and a last.

 

But, still, the mastery of his own body, the ability to do 200 push-ups and know that you did that and are in control-

 

They are what helped him when he first got out and was still so fucking scared all the time.

 

And the fact that there is in fact a socially acceptable place where he can punch someone or something until his hand fucking _hurts_ is probably what got him through school and kept him out of jail.

 

It's weird to have Nasir here. Not necessarily in a bad way but in an of-all-the-parts-of-my-life-that-are-gonna-freak-you-out-if-you-reject-this-one-it-might-break-me kind of way.

 

Nasir looked uncomfortable as they walked onto the mats. Agron got that. He did. The gym is kind of a dirty hole in wall which probably would have gone out of business if the Brotherhood hadn't adopted it.

 

There's a bunch of weights, a few hanging puching bags, a couple machines and a big ring.

 

He set Nasir up on one of the bags, showed him the basics: jab, upper-cut, cross, hook punches and a couple different types of kicks. He stood behind him and spent maybe half-an-hour subtly correcting his form and his stance before he got the hand pads out and has Nasir come at him.

 

Nasir was obviously uncomfortable with not being good at something but he wa trying and he laughed and _that_ was good.

 

It was almost enough to get that crazy feeling of Agron wanting to rip himself to shreds to go away.

 

But not quite. Agron needed to work out. To get lost in his own body and force his mind to shut the hell up. Also, he'd quite like to get into a knock-down drag out fight but, well, he'd only just gotten Nasir back and baby steps right? Baby steps. Let him slowly acclimatize to the crazy.

 

Except Donar came in with his too knowing smile and the understanding that had helped peel Agron off of more than one helpless (well usually not helpless) victim who was about to have their insides becomes their outsides courtesy of Agron's temper.

 

Donar took one look at him raised his eyebrows and jerked his head towards the ring. Agron looked at Nasir and didn't voice the question.

 

Nasir twisted one corner of his mouth up. “Oh, go on. I'm fine.”

 

“You sure?”

 

Nasir nodded and Agron grinned. He grabbed a kiss. “Gratitude.”

 

He practically leaped into the ring with Donar.

 

He'd immediately in a defensive crouch with his hands up but Donar shook his head and nodded towards Nasir.

 

<So, you got your Syrian back?> Donar asked.

 

Agrong sighed and straightened up. The familiar language make him relax and want to scream at the same time.

 

<Yeah. He came to the courthouse a couple days ago. Decided he was willing to take a risk.>

 

Donar nodded. <Are you okay, man? I know we all talk about how you're the one who's got his shit together but-..> he trailed off.

 

Agron groaned and stretched his arms out. <You heard about the fucking cross-examination didn't you?”

 

Donar nodded and then shrugged. “Gannicus may also have given me a call and told me to deal with you. Said he was> Donar switched to English mimicking Gannicus' aggressively laid back way of talking “Like, not really _concerned_ -concerned but you know, mildly apprehensive about where your head was at”

 

Donar shot him a questioning look, and Agron couldn't help but notice that Nasir had stopped hitting the bag to eavesdrop.

 

“I'm fine. Just fine.” Agron insisted.

 

Donar shrugged. “Have it your way.”

 

“Can I try and beat you to death now?” Agron asked impatiently.

 

Donar did a weird half-bow thing. “You can try.”

 

Agron didn't bother with any preliminaries. He went into what the other jokingly calling “Full-Barbarian Mode” and with a yell barrelled into Donar knocking him to the floor.

 

They go for a few rounds at the end of which Donar had lost every single one but had nonetheless managed to get a few good hits in.

 

Agron was breathing hard, his side was on fire, his arms were shaking from the chin ups earlier combined with the strain of not pulling his punches but he was also grinning and feeling more like himself (or the version of himself he wants to be) than he has since the trial started, or maybe even longer than that, since the day he and Nasir had broken up maybe.

 

The thought of Nasir sent ice shooting down his spine as he whipped his head around to check on the Syrian.

 

It's one thing to know on an intellectual level that your boyfriend is two fingers short of crazy and capable of beating a man to death and it is something else entirely to see him go at it with his best friend.

 

Nasir was leaning against the ring with his hands resting on the ropes and his mouth open.

 

“Nasir?” Agron asked nervously.

 

“You nearly killed him with your biceps...!” Nasir exclaimed after a minute.

 

Agron thought about that and nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, sort of.”

 

Donar snorted from the ground. “He did not nearly kill me!” he shouted in protest.

 

Agron laughed. “Who had who pinned to the floor my friend?” he asked as he nudged the other German with his foot.

 

<Asshole. I don't know what he sees in you.> Donar called back.

 

<My Herculean strength maybe?>

 

<Oh, shut up.>

 

Agron glanced back at Nasir who had a questioning look on his face, obviously waiting to be let in on the joke.

 

“Donar disputes my physical prowess!” he said, flexing his arms like a body builder. “But, you know the truth don't you?”

 

Nasir laughed and beckoned him over.

 

Agron looked at Donar who shrugged and waved him away.

 

Agron hopped down next to Nasir and threw an arm around his shoulders. Nasir grimaced and batted him away.

 

“Ew, you're sweaty!”

 

Agron laughed and tried to grab him in a bear hug but Nasir darted away. Agron was about to chase him when Donar suddenly called after him.

 

<You've got a good one there. I hope you realize that.>

 

Agron paused. <I do.>

 

Donar smiled ruefully. <I hope you realize that it's okay to not be okay sometimes Agron. You're one of the good ones too.>

 

Agron nodded, feeling the old grief choke him up again. Not suffocating like it had been before, just...there.

 

<Thanks Donar.>

 

<You're welcome Agron. Now, go get your boy!>

 

With a grin Agron took off after Nasir who'd disappeared into the changing room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this may be the last chapter for a while (but hopefully not forever) some RL stuff is coming up that may take me away from writing for a while (or may make me so stressed that I'm glued to my screen who knows?). Just FYI. Thought I'd leave you all with a nice long chapter to tide you over. 
> 
> Hope you guys like the chapter and continue to like the fic. BIG THANKS to everyone who commented on the last few chapters, the motivation that gives me for a WiP really cannot be beat. 
> 
> Anyway, I thought there'd been a lot of Nasir lately so hope you enjoyed some quality Agron time. I feel like this fic is getting less funny, but maybe that's to be expected given the dramatic-ness of some of what's going on? I dunno. I like this chapter, I think it turned out good.


	6. An Interlude with Agron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron gets an unexpected phone call, calls his therapist and reveals some backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussion of sexual coercion and non-con situations. Also, Agron has a flashback in this fic, so warnings for lots of sad things related to human trafficking.

The phone call takes Agron by surprise. Since he finished his testimony he'd been purposefully trying to avoid thinking about the trial, or following it, or acknowledging it in anyway. 

He knew it had ended and he new that Laeta the attorney the firm had assigned the task of 'handling' the victims to had said she was hopefully for the outcome that they wanted, at least that was what Spartacus said. 

For all that it was Laeta's job to 'liase' with them most of the Brotherhood rarely spoke to her. 

So the fact that she is calling him on his private cellphone is a little disconcerting. He is absolutely certain he did NOT give her that number. 

“So, Agron, I have a job for you.” 

“What sort of job?” he asked warily. 

“The verdict and sentence is going to be returned on Friday.” 

“Okay...?” 

“I need one of the you guys to be available to make a statement afterwards.” 

“And you're calling me because?” 

“Because I think you're the best choice to give it.” 

“WHAT?! HAVE YOU LOST FUCKING MIND?! YOU HAVE MET ME WOMAN OR AM I CONFUSING YOU WITH SOME OTHER RED-HEADED LAWYER??” 

“I have met you, but I've also met the other plaintifs and that is why I've decided you are the best man for the job.” 

That does give Agron pause. Crixus is out for obvious reasons. Donar and Lugo are out for language reasons. Rhaskos is in jail. Most of Crixus' crew are in a shared downward spiral of self-destruction. Gannicus, though a material witness, is not actually a plaintif. Oenomaus barely spoke to anyone ever, let alone strangers. Someone has to do it, he knows. They are only a symptom of a larger disease and someone needs to remind people of that. 

“Look, I know it's a lot to ask but, you really are the only option, and besides because of that picture your face is already out there.” Laeta continued. 

Agron sighed. 

“Fine.” He growled from between gritted teeth. 

“Good, I'll prepare a couple of statements for you and then you can just read them on the day okay?” 

“That's fine.” 

“Thanks so much for this Agron. It really will help.” 

“Do not mention it.” 

“Bye.” 

Agron hung up and, after a pause, threw the phone across the room, screamed and punched the pillow a few times. 

He felt the familiar rage building up behind his eyes. He tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. 

He tried for a few moments to stay calm and then got up and traipsed over to the snatch his phone up off the floor. With shaking fingers he dialed a familiar number. 

It's moments like these he's glad he never got around to taking his shrink off of speed dial. 

He prayed she'd pick up, otherwise someone (probably not him but, maybe) was going to get hurt real bad. 

Sometimes it was hard for Agron to remember that he hadn't always been like this. That for most of his life, though he'd been the one who finished the fights, he was never the one who started them. 

Those days seem very long ago now, though they are in truth only a few years removed. 

He had been the calm one, who never faltered nor fumbled as he dragged his brother through life. 

Duro had been different, of course. Duro had been quick to anger and quicker to laugh. A boy who showed ever joy and every injury. Childish, perhaps, but good, Agron had always thought, in a way that few young men were. Though, Agron had perhaps been biased by his brotherly adoration of the little scamp. 

It had been Duro who had sought to devour life whole, who had seemed to feel everything: joy, sorrow, annoyance, more keenly than most men. And when his demeanour leaned to far in one direction or another, it was Agron who steadied the helm and kept them both on an even keel. 

Even in the fucking basement it had been thus. Until the moment Duro died and some dam that Agron had not even realized he had constructed burst inside of him, and all the rage he ought to have felt through out his entire shitty little life came pouring out as never before. 

His therapist says that he had used his preoccupation with protecting his brother as a coping mechanism and deprived of that was unable to manage his emotions because until then he had never tried to deal with them before. 

This may be true. This probably is true. But it doesn't change the fact that Duro is dead and Agron is so angry that he sometimes feels like he can't speak. Like he needs to scream and scream and scream and never ever stop. 

He settled for picking fights.

They all got put in hospital for the most part. Malnutrition, improperly set bones, infected wounds are minor concerns next to the psychological trauma Spartacus had explained. 

Agron had found himself in accordance with Crixus' followers who sneer at such things. 

It seemed there was strength only in honour and glory and rage. You cannot keep moving forward if you turn to face what is behind. 

Spartacus laughed and called this foolishness. Oenomaus was there too, he sat and stared and did not speak a word. 

And he fought. 

That was something those people simply did not and do not understand, and were not prepared for.

Agron knows what they expected. They expected them to be like the whores who were sometimes brought in for the men's use, or for a party or something: Dull eyed, compliant, placid, reliant on drugs and in more pain than a human soul is meant to contain. 

The gladiators were mainly dissuaded from over indulging in the vices of drugs and alcohol. A man can't fight too well if he starts going into withdrawal halfway through after all. And a man won't fight if he thinks he's helpless. 

So, violence, equals control, equals power, equals safety. 

No less than 13 nurses ended up with broken nose during the course of the Brotherhood's stay in the facility. 

The group therapist (who Agron actually had felt sorry for some days because surely she did not sign up for treating muscle bound fools who did not wish to be there) spoke of expanding the circle of trust and lessening their hyper-vigilance. 

Agron had thought her an idiot right up until the moment where a patient not part of the brotherhood bumped into him in line and he fpund himself smashing the poor fucks face into the floor. Repeatedly. With extreme prejudice and excessive force. 

Luckily for the poor fuck, they had made sure to transfer in the big orderlies, and three of them manage to drag Agron off. 

The man lived. And there's even no lasting brain damage. So, it hadn't really been that bad. 

But, Agron had suddenly recognized that he had no fucking hope of living any kind of life if he was willing to beat a man to death for no reason and had begun to actually try and listen to his therapist. 

He still said jack all in the group sessions, though. No way was he letting Crixus know that he'd gone soft. 

Though, to be fair, Crixus had gone soft himself ages before the cops had raided Batiatus' basement (his therapist encourages him not to think of it in the terms his captors had dictated- it is not a school, it is not a 'ludus', it is not 'sacred ground watered with tears of blood'- it is a fucking dank cold basement and it had sucked ass). 

Anyway, Crixus would fucking shut up about Naevia, even then. Agron had laid eyes on Naevia, he had spoken to Naevia and even taking in the fact that he has never had any interest in he fairer sex- ever, he still found he a rather unremarkable young woman. 

Pretty, yes, but lacking in anything like fire or determination. Honestly, if Agron were to play Fuck, Marry, Kill with the eligible ladies of the Batiatus basement, he would have fucked Aurelia (because she was a tough lady and wouldn't want to keep him anyway), Married Mira (bitch was fierce!) and killed Naevia (because she was just so.... dull). 

His therapist had said she felt that these lines of thought were not productive and that he should really try and avoid violent ideation. 

Agron had grimaced and stuck his tongue out at her. Which, he realize later is what he used to do when he was purposefully trying to be a shit in order to rile Duro up, but it had been very satisfying in the moment. 

Then he had gone and gotten into a fight with an orderly, when said orderly had made a comment about him being a sex slave, which had ended with him bashing the man's head against a wall. Luckily, there are witnesses who could attest to the fact that the man was in fact harassing Agron in a way that was triggering, but...well, let's just say his therapist was not happy about it. 

 

Thankfully, that was the week that Crixus tries to stab someone in the face with a plastic spoon for no apparent reason so no one had time to be too disappointed with Agron for long. 

Agron wanted to get better, he wanted to get out and he wants to stop being so fucking angry all the time. 

He gets two of his wishes, but the anger seems here to stay. 

Spartacus was the one who comes up with the idea of getting them all set up in an industrial building that they could convert into lofts. It's good, gives them all a way of staying together, staying busy and keeps them from having to interact too much with the outside world. 

They started getting jobs and they started getting fired from jobs. Customer service was a terrible idea since they've all pretty much forgotten what is and is not socially acceptable. 

Construction is a pretty good fit for some of them. Unskilled labour, barking orders and bad food. It almost feels like the good old days. 

A lot of the guys stopped going to therapy, which even Agron can see is a monumentally stupid idea. Some of them started going to community support groups and then they started bringing home strays. 

The biggest surprise was when Oenomaus came back with Gannicus who had stumbled after the stoic black man like a highy inebriated puppy. Only slightly less shocking was when the grinning blonde's arrival prompted Oenomaus to stop staring at walls and got him to start acting like a human again. 

Agron went to adult high school and got his fucking diploma. And he is fucking proud of that thing. Even prouder that he managed to make it through the course without getting in a fight serious enough to warrant expulsion. 

Then he had found mixed martial arts fighting and for the first time since Duro died he started thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could climb out of the pit of shit that Batiatus and Glaber had dumped him in. 

Then he got the job working security at Crassus publishing. 

Then he had met Nasir. 

And suddenly, it seemed really important that Nasir (who has all the bits he likes and has enough fire in him to out shine Mira and Aurelia put together), know that Agron hadn't always been like this. 

He wanted to tell Nasir everything about who he used to be. The streetwise kid in Berlin who'd always kept a level head and who'd spent most of his time joking with his brother, because damn it, he'd always had trust issues. 

He wanted to tell him about the good times. About the time that Duro kept getting up again even though Crixus just kept knocking him down. About the way he'd pouted when Agron had finished off his opponent for him in their first fight. 

But, there's no way of doing that without explaining about the bad times. Really explaining. 

Batiatus' basement and the fights, and the blood and the death and the times when he'd get led upstairs alone and be told to do what was asked because in that moment it didn't matter that he killed men with his bare hands on a regular basis, he still was a slave who would fuck and be fucked by whoever his owner wanted. 

He didn't want to tell Nasir about those times. He wanted to tell him about the time Duro had decided to break the windows out of the principals car and Agron had managed to construct an air-tight alibi for the two of them in less than fifteen minutes. 

He wanted to tell him about all the times he'd had to talk Duro down from one ledge or another.

He wanted to tell Nasir about their ugly ass dreads and Duro's weird love for his gold nose ring. 

He just wanted Nasir to know who he used to be. 

Because who he used to be had maybe deserved to have a guy like Nasir in his life. 

There's a long pause on the other end of the phone and Agron realized that he'd been saying all those things, and maybe crying a little bit and now he's sitting on the floor breathing like he'd just run a marathon, and....oh fucking shit....

His therapist cleared her throat. “I'm very very glad you called me Agron.” She said at last. 

“And I want to tell you now that who you have become is in no way inferior to who you were before you suffered your traumas. Do you understand me?” 

Agron doesn't say anything. 

“I said: Do you understand?” 

Agron sighed and grumbled. “Yes, ma'am” 

“Now, that being said, I think that your desire to share the positive aspects of your past- things which you only began to share with me very recently is a good sign. I think the fact that you're even entertaining sharing some of what you've undergone with your partner is a huge sign of growth on your part.” 

He can practically hear her smiling on the other end of the phone. 

“You know, Agron, I'm very proud of you.” 

Agron snorted and rolled his eyes. But, deep down was he pleased, because he didn't think anyone's had ever said that to him before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly one month after the last posting. I'm going to pretend that happened on purpose...
> 
> Hello Lovelies,  
> I hope you like this update. I regret to say that I'm not going to be able to promise regular updates for this fic because my writing mojo has run away and left me all alone. Sigh. But, maybe it will come back? Hopefully. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who gave me such nice words of encouragement about my Real Life problems. That was very kind of you all. 
> 
> Sorry for the lack of Nagron in this update, but my bb Agron needed some screen time. Nasir and his fabulousness should return next chapter.
> 
> Also, maybe come talk to me on tumblr? If you want? I'm as Sassaphrass over there too, though mainly I just post my fanart....http://sassaphrass.tumblr.com/


	7. Wayward Young Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron makes a speech. Gannicus is a good friend. Castus makes cupcakes. Lugo is a bad babysitter.

 

The day before the verdict comes back Agron got his suit out of the closet and hung it over the door framer, ready for when he had to rush to get to court after work.

 

Nasir wan't sleeping over that night. So, no need to go into the gory details.

 

Agron sighed and got into bed. Even in the dark he could make out the shape of his suit.

 

It would be a long sleepless night.

 

 

The next afternoon found Agron uncomfortable and apprehensive as he sat next to Laeta in the court. Gannicus was next to him and Spartacus was somewhere discretely watching in the the benches but the rest of the Brotherhood had opted not to come or couldn't get it off.

 

The verdict came back.

 

“Okay then.” Agron thought over the white noise in his head.

 

 

Agron stepped out of the courtroom feeling dazed and confused. Laeta was shoving a paper into his hands and said in a low tone “It's not a best case scenario Agron, but this still counts as a win.”

 

Agron nodded numbly.

 

“Excuse me, one of the victims, Agron Reiner, would like to make a brief statement.” she announced to the assembled press. Some ignored her to go and accost Glaber's lawyers but most stayed.

 

Agron nervously cleared his throat and began woodenly reading. “Today's verdict, while not a sweeping conviction, is nonetheless a victory. Though Glaber was aquitted of the charges of murder, conspiracy to commit murder and rape, his convictions related to his role in the human trafficking that led to those crimes makes a clear stand on the part of the state of New York and...”

 

Agron trailed off and took a couple deep breathes. The numbness had worn off and he was worried he was going to go into hysterics on the court steps with 14 cameras pointed at him. Carefully and deliberately he refolded the paper and slipped it into his suit pocket.

 

He took another deep breathe, and started talking.

 

“I had a brother named Duro. He was just a couple weeks past nineteen when men in the employ of Glaber killed him in cold blood. These men did it on the orders of Glaber, of that I have no doubt. But, I understand why the courts were unable to convict him on the charge of murder.”

 

Agron clenched his jaw and concentrated on keeping his voice civil.

 

“This trial has taken years. This _result_ has taken years. And it is not enough. Glaber and Batiatus were two men in an entire sea of scum you-” Agron cut himself off before he started calling the audience and reporters unprintable names.

 

“This is two men and they ruined hundreds of lives and ended just as many. Just because Glaber is going to jail, and Batiatus is dead- don't fool yourselves into thinking this is over. This is not over.

 

A lot of people died in that basement, okay? And they died for sport, for the enjoyment of the people who thought they owned them. And I'm going to tell you their names, because they fucking mattered!!! You understand that!!!? They mattered!" Agron felt like was going to throw up.

 

"Duro Reiner- loved tacky jewelry: shot in the chest, Barca Carthage-kind, did his best to protect the younger weaker prisoners- stabbed multiple times and bled to death, Pietros- sweet, kept pet birds: suicide after being repeatedly raped, Varro- terrible jokes, wonderful friend: killed for fun, Melitta- beloved wife and friend: accidentally poisoned, Sergovax- cocky bastard but handsome: castrated and crucified, Diona- beheaded for running away after being repeatedly raped as entertainment, Aurelia died of wounds inflicted during torture, Gnaeus pushed to his death, Auctus, Dagan, Theokoles, Kleitos, Hamilcar, and Kerza were murdered as entertainment, Ulpius, Hamilcar, Kerza, Duratius, Marcus, Kleitos, and Kastor.

 

They all had people who loved them and missed them and cried for them, but that didn't matter because they all were raped and mutilated and murdered and if you think that sending one of the men responsible for that to jail for a couple decades somehow evens the scales than you ought to pull your heads out of your asses.”

 

Agron grimaced.

 

“Locking one man up doesn't change what happened and what's still happening. There are dozens of other cases like this one but I don't see reporters talking to those victims.

 

You're interested in me because someone took a picture of me holding my baby brother's corpse, and cause I'm white, and male and I don't look like what you think a victim of human traficking looks like. Because we were 'sexy modern day gladiators'.

Well, it wasn't sexy, it isn't cool, they may have dressed it up in fancy words but what happened was they were having us murdered for sport. They were getting people raped for entertainment. And stuff like that is still happening.

 

And this-” Agron pulled his speech out. “This is bullshit. This ruling is weak and it tells people that unless a cop infiltrates your organization you'll get away with it and even then there's still a chance you'll walk free. There are still hundreds of thousands of people, mainly young women, who are living in hell and why aren't you fucking helping them? Huh?

 

That's all. No questions please. You be sure to print those goddamn names.” Agron snarled as he shoved his way through the crowd (which had grown in size during his tirade).

 

Laeta snagged his elbow and dragged him into her town car. She sat in silence for a moment before finally saying. “That was not what I expected Agron.”

 

Agron took a shakey breath and put his head in his hands. “I know, I don't know what-”

 

“No!” Laeta put grabbed his arm. “It wasn't bad. It was...it was powerful. I'm not sure how it's going to play in the media but, I'm pretty sure you just got people's attention in a major way. I hope you're prepared for the fact that because of what you just did you're probably not going to be able to just disappear and be forgotten now. There will be interview requests and...Agron, I wish you'd talked to me about writing your own speech we could have polished something up, but I just thought you didn't care and wanted it to be quick and painless, so that's what I wrote.”

 

“It's alright Laeta, but I did warn you I'd fuck it up.”

 

Laeta smiled. “I guess you did. Do you need a ride?”

 

Agron shook his head. “Nah, I'll just go with Gannicus.”

 

“Alright, I don't know when I'll see you again but, Agron, I truly wish you all the luck in the world.”

 

“Thanks Laeta, thanks for everything.”

 

Agron checked that the coast was clear and then ducked out of the cab and headed for the subway.

 

Christ he'd really put his foot in it this time hadn't he?

 

Gannicus was leaning up against that gate that lead to the subway.

 

“That was quite a performance.” he drawled.

 

“Oh, shut fucking mouth Gannicus.”

 

“No, truly.” Gannicus dashed in front of Agron so as to meet his gaze.  “You mentioned Melitta and what happened to her.” He said very seriously. “Thank you for that.”

 

Gannicus jerked his head towards the subway. “You going home?”

 

Agron shrugged. “Nah. Where're you headed?”

 

“I got a group I'm mediating.”

 

Agron bit his lip. “Maybe I'll come with you?”

 

Gannicus grinned like a fool. “Sure, that'd be great!”

 

Agron returned the man's smile tentatively.

 

Everyone was always nagging him to go to group. It had certainly done wonders for Gannicus. Now was as good a time as any to start.

 

 

 

The room should not have been intimidating. It was in a side room of a church with fake wood panelling and ugly carpets. There were dessert squares and coffee and tea which both seemed strong enough to melt iron.

There were also people. About 15-mainly women but a couple men as well, both young and slight and nervous.

 

It set his teeth on edge. They were using the folding chairs that Agron particularly hated. The ones that made him feel too large and out of place.

 

Gritting his teeth Agron took a couple lemon squares and sat down next to Gannicus.

 

Gannicus smiled. “Hello everyone. As I'm sure you've noticed we have a new face in the group. So why don't we all go around and introduce ourselves, okay?”

“Hi, I'm Gannicus.” He added with a wave and a carefree smile.

 

“Sybil”

 

“Thessala.”

 

 The names blurred together and the lemon square stuck in his throat suddenly. And the room is too small and these people are too...they aren't. Fuck, this is bad this is very very bad.

 

“Excuse me.” Agron all but barked and pretty much bolted from the room.

 

He crouched down and tried to focus on his breathing. It had been a long time sinced he'd had an actual panic attack. But he felt like he was gonna die sitting on the cheap linoleum floor of this fucking church with his knees drawn up to his chest like a child.

 

He wanted Duro so badly in that moment it was like someone had ripped his guts out. Because Duro was dead. He was dead and buried and Agron didn't even have a picture to remember him by.

 

“Whoa. Hey, Agron.” Gannicus came around the corner and kneeled down in front of him.  “Guess that was a bit too much for one day, huh?”

 

Agron nodded and punched the wall. “FUCK THE GODS!!!!FUCKIN'-” He drew his hand back to hit it again.

 

Gannicus grabbed his arm. “No, man. You'll hurt yourself.”

 

Agron bit his lip and glared at Gannicus. After a second he held up both hands in surrender.

 

“Apologies, Gannicus.”

 

Gannicus looked at him warily. “Are you alright, dude? I gotta get back to the group but I'm not gonna leave you if you might do something bad.”

 

Agron levered himself up off the ground with a groan.

 

“I'm fine, just pissed I was too chicken shit to stay back there.”

 

“S'alright. Don't sweat it. You've had a rough day- just promise you'll go straight home okay? I'm gonna call Lugo and make sure he looks after you.”

 

“I do not require a fucking minder.”

 

Gannicus shook his head. “Maybe not, but just in case. There's a lot of shit I wish someone had been around to stop me from doing.”

 

Agron sighed and nodded. “Gratitude.”

 

“S'Nothing. Now, get home, have a nap and call Nasir. I got to lead this group or I'd go with you.”

 

“I know. You truly are a good friend. And a good man.” Agron paused. “I truly must apologize for how we treated you when we first arrived. It was unfair.”

 

Gannicus shook his head. “T'was nothing and is long since forgotten!” he cried with false cheeriness.

 

 

 

 

Nasir sighed heavily and tried to surreptisiously eye Chadara's replacement- Kore. The woman intimidated him on a viseral level he did not understand. She was beautiful and poised and classy. And calm. Like, zen buddhist- shaolin monk calm. Yeah, shaolin monk.

 

It was like working opposite the Queen or something.

 

A box was rather unceremoniously dumped on Nasir's desk with a loud thump.

 

He looked up to see Castus looking like a pouty toddler. It had been two weeks since their dust up in the cafeteria and Nasir hadn't talked to Castus since.

 

“Look, I'm sorry alright?” Castus whined.

 

Nasir poked the box with the end of his pencil. “What is this?” .

 

Castus grinned maniacally and opened the box to reveal cupcakes decorated as goats. They had little horns and beards and everything.

 

“I'm not sure whether to be delighted or horrified.” Nasir deadpanned.

 

“C'mon! Do you know the look I got when I asked them to do 12 goats instead of the usual barnyard selection?”

 

Nasir snorted and carefully picked one up. He took a bite. It was delicious.

 

He groaned. “Okay, maybe I forgive you-” Castus face became a smug grin- “BUT I want a full apology, not just a sorry that you mutter as you dump a bribe on my desk.”

 

Castus huffed dramatically and stared at his shoes (snake skin loafers- a bold choice). “I'm sorry I called your boyfriend names. I'm sorry I was insensitive, I know it's not my place, but-” Castus looked up and held Nasir's gaze. “You're kinda the only friend that I've got right now and I worry about you, okay? You're not always careful and...yeah.”

 

Nasir sighed and smiled at Castus. “Thanks.”

 

“What do you mean you haven't got any friends?” he asked after a second.

 

“Dust up with Heracleo. Things got bad, really bad. And Chadara's gone now, so-”

 

“it's just me and you.” Nasir finished for him.

 

Nasir glanced over his shoulder at where Licinia was making someone from the makeup department cry. “You should get out before she sees you. Thanks for the goats.”

 

“Anytime man. Look after yourself, 'kay? You work too hard.”

 

Nasir gave his friend a mock salute and smiled dreamily after him as he walked away. The man had an ass that just wouldn't quit.

 

It was late in the evening (Licinia doesn't trust Kore yet so Nasir had to wait for the book) when he got a call.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Nasir?”

 

He didn't recognize the voice, though the accent was familiar.

 

“Who is this?”

 

“It's Donar. Has Agron called you?”

 

“No. I actually haven't talked to him in a couple of days, why?”

 

There was a long pause and Nasir could feel his heart stop beating.

 

“He's not here. He was supposed to be here.”

 

“I'm sorry, I don't understand. What happened?”

 

“The verdict came back, Agron gave a speech. Good speech, you'd be proud. He went with Gannicus but then got upset and said he was coming home. Gannicus texted around so someone would check on him. I came home and he's not here.”

 

Nasir wanted to run out of the office right away and tear the town apart until he found Agron. But he couldn't leave without the book- he'd lose his job.

 

“I haven't heard from him.” He repeated.

 

“If you do-” “I'll call you.”

 

“Good.”

 

There was another long pause.

 

“Look,” Donar said. “It's probably nothing. He probably is just drunk in a bar somewhere rambling in German. We'll find him.”

 

Nasir tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

 

“Yeah, I'm sure it's fine. Have you told Spartacus?”

 

“Are you kidding? The man would lose fucking mind. We'll tell him when we find him.”

 

Nasir chuckled wetly. “Alright. Let me know if you do.”

 

He hung up and immediately sent a text off to Agron.

 

“You bastard!! Call your family they're scared.”

 

 

There's no reply.

 

Nasir got the book and delivered it to Licinia. Still no reply.

 

He called Donar back.

 

“Anything?”

 

“No.” Nasir could tell that Donar had thought they'd find Agron by now. That Donar was scared. Nasir was scared too.

 

“Is there something I can do?”

 

“No, just wait for him. Maybe he will call you. Or go to your place.”

 

Nasir sat up all night. It was Friday after all. No work tomorrow.

 

Nothing but time. He got a call from Spartacus around 2 am full of recrimination and blame for not being informed sooner.

 

Nasir couldn't answer and hung up on the outraged cop.

 

He was so fucking scared.

 

How could Agron do this to him? To all of them?

 

 

 

Agron threw his arm around Lugo's shoulder and laughed. He was too drunk to really stand properly but he was so fucking happy.

 

There was familiar music and familiar words and the familiar language and he didn't want to die.

 

He leaned down and kissed Lugo full on the mouth.

 

Lugo kissed back for a second before he laughed and batted Agron away.

 

Agron wanted love. He wanted _sex._ Nasir. He fucking wanted to dance pornographically in a club with Nasir.

 

He should call Nasir and tell him that. Only when he reached for his phone he couldn't find it.

 

He told Lugo about wanting to dance with Nasir. Or tried to. He was not sure how much sense he was making. Lugo was pretty far gone as well, so maybe that's where the communication gap was.

 

Beer.

 

More Beer was definitely called for.

 

Agron remembered staggering over to the bar and then nothing.

 

It's probably just as well that he doesn't remember.

 

He's ashamed enough to waking up the next morning. He's alone. He doesn't know where he is and he only has one shoe. He's slumped over a toilet in some not too shabby bathroom. Probably still in the city. Everything fucking hurt.

 

He felt his pocket for his phone. Gone. Right, he'd left it at home last night.

 

He levered himself up to lean against the wall. Threw up some more, and blearily peaked out of the door.

 

It's an apartment he doesn't recognize and a stranger passed out on a couch.

 

It's reminiscent of his wild days with Duro in Berlin. Those couple weeks of hard partying when they'd been young and foolish. Only in those days Agron always woke up with Duro at least in the same building.

 

He scanned for his shoe and not seeing it quietly creeped out the door and down the stairs.

 

He still had no fucking clue were he is.

 

It seemed like a nice neighbourhood though.

 

 

It took him a long time to get home. He kept having to get off the subway to throw up. He hadn't been this sick from the drink since he left Germany.

 

When he gets home he's going to have to face the music in more ways than one. Maybe that's also part of why it took him so long to get there.

 

 

He hoped Lugo was alright. Because in that moment Agron certainly wasn't.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is kind of a mess. Sorry about that. 
> 
> I had trouble marshalling the plot bunnies. They just kept hopping around and getting confused.
> 
> Anyone else see season2-3 Spartacus as like a proud mama bird who worries about her duckings? Cause I do. I'm not sure if I've made that clear enough.


	8. Facing the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron returns home and deals with the consequences of his actions. Threats are made and cuddles are had.

By the time Agron got home he had realized two things: 1) he had the beginnings of a(nother) black eye starting to swell up and 2) he was not wearing any socks.

 

He'd had one and not the other when he's left the apartment last night.

 

No prizes for guessing which.

 

He very slowly made his way up the stairs to his loft silently thanking all the gods that might be listening that he didn't run into any of Crixus' loyal crew of shit-heads.

 

He gingerly creaked open the door to his apartment and winced at the sight that greeted him: Donar, Spartacus, and Oenomaus all sitting at the kitchen table and staring at the door.

 

They'd obviously been waiting up for him all night judging by the number of coffee cups on the table.

 

Agron stepped through the door.

 

They don't even get mad which makes Agron feel even worse. They'd been so worried that they'd gone past mad and into relieved. It has to be a pretty extreme situation for the Brotherhood to not be angry.

 

Donar murmured “Thank God!” in the general direction of the ceiling. Spartacus was next to Agron immediately helping to prop him up.

“Are you alright brother? What happened” he asked.

 

Agron sighed and shrugged. “Not really sure. There was a lot of beer, some shots.. and then...” he trailed off and pulled a face. “I am really not sure.”

 

Spartacus tsked. “We were afraid something had happened to you”

 

Agron shook his head. “Nothing but my own stupidity I'm afraid.” He groaned, leaned more heavily on Spartacus and rubbed his eyes. “I'm going to bed.” He staggered away from Spartacus towards his room.

 

“No. You need call Nasir first.” Donar called after him.

 

“I'll call him tomorrow.”

 

“No. That boy was frantic last night. You call him now.”

 

Agron turned to frown at Donar. “Why? I mean, I get you would be worried but I'm a grown man who didn't return your phone calls for a couple hours not some preteen girl who never made it home from school.”

 

Donar slammed his hands against the table and rose to his feet. “You could have died. You could have drank too much and choked on your own sick. You could have walked into traffic or gotten picked up by some of Glaber's ex-lackeys looking for revenge. You could have been taken advantage of. You could have gotten hurt. You could have hurt yourself. Hell, I didn't tell Nasir this but after I talked to Gannicus last night I pretty much expected we'd find your body in a couple of days cause you took a long walk off the Brooklyn bridge or some shit!!!”

 

Agron gaped at the usually reticent German. “What?” he looked from him to the men still sitting around the table. “I was with Lugo- it is fine.”

 

“Lugo got back at 2 am last night.” Oenomaus solemnly declared. “Gannicus has been half convinced he sent you to your death because he trusted you to come home on your own.”

 

Agron winced. He hadn't thought about how Gannicus would react to the whole thing. The man was rather prone to melodramatics as it was and that combined with his terror of hurting someone else he cared about and his history of mental illness and substance abuse meant that Agron had probably seriously screwed up the other man's recovery.

 

“Should I talk to Gannicus?” Agron asked worriedly.

 

Oenomaus shook his head. “It will only make things worse if you make much of what happened. Rather, you should phone Nasir and then take to your bed.”

 

Agron could very strongly agree with the last part of that statement. He felt like one raw nerve.

 

“If I call him, he'll come over and I don't want to have to see him when I'm like this.” he finally said.

 

Spartacus finally spoke up. “I will call him and inform him of your....” he paused and gestured encompass Agron's missing shoe, bruised face and hangover, “...state and that you will see him tomorrow. However, you must let me stay here to ensure your well-being and if he does come over I won't stop him.”

 

Defeated Agron nodded and stumbled towards his room. His phone was on his dresser where he'd left it last night. He tossed it at Spartacus before slamming his door with his foot. .

 

He kicked his shoe off, peeled off his socks and then hopped out of his jeans before collapsing facedown onto the bed.

 

After a moment he made the herculean effort of squirming up and down into the sheets.

 

 

Nasir was sitting at his kitchen table with an equally cold and terrible cup of coffee and staring at his phone. He'd gone to sleep around 3 last night and had had very disturbing dreams.

 

He needed Agron to call him, or Spartacus or anyone. The idea that Agron was out there somewhere in the city dead, or hurt or lost was tormenting him.

 

The phone buzzed. Nasir snatched it up immediately.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Nasir! It's Spartacus, I have good news! Agron has returned to us relatively unharmed.”

 

Nasir choked on a sob. “He's alright?”

 

“A bit beaten up but generally unharmed,”

 

“What happened?”

 

“He went out drinking with Lugo, forgot his phone at home and got seperated.”

 

The relief was starting to wear off enough for Nasir to be pissed.  


“What -that's it? Does he know what he's put everyone through last night?”

 

There's a long sigh from the other end of the phone. “Donar and Oenomaus made their dissapointment in him abundantly clear before he went to bed.”

 

“Wait, why are you calling me?”

 

There's a pause. Finally Spartacus answered.

 

“He's a bit of a wreck Nasir. He's one big bruise and I think he came back all the way from New Jersey with only one shoe. He just wanted to go to sleep.”

 

“I hope you know I'm coming over.”

 

“I told him you would.”

 

“And I may need to kick his ass.”

 

Spartacus snorted. “I'm not surprised you feel that way but you'll rethink that position when you see him.”

 

Nasir hung up the phone, grabbed his sneakers and headed out his door.

 

Nasir stormed into Agron's place without knocking and flounced past Donar and Spartacus who sat on the couch staring with their mouths open. His face must truly have been a sight to behold since Gannicus took one step out of the room he shared with Oenomaus, took one look at him and then immediately turned tail and fled back inside.

 

Nasir threw open the door to Agron's room and paused. Agron really did look rough. What little Nasir could see of his face was purple, the toes sticking out from under the blanket were dirty and cut up and he was burrowed into the mattress and pillows as though he hoped to eventually merge with them into one being.

 

Nasir sighed and put his bag and scarf onto the dresser, before climbing up onto the bed next to Agron.

 

Agron twitched and pressed his facde deeper into his pillow. “G'way ye fucker.” he snarled.

 

Nasir glared at him. “Fuck the Gods, you do look awful.” he growled.

 

Agron immediately stiffened at the sound of his voice. Nasir felt a certain ammount of satisfaction. That's right Agron, be afraid. Be very afraid.

 

Agron shifted a little so he was pretty much face down on his pillow. “Mmpf”

 

Nasir narrowed his eyes. Agron was not going to get out of this that easily. He had put everyone in his family through hell last night, and if he thought he could avoid this conversation by lying facedown on the pillow he was sorely mistaken.

 

Nasir had been composing his verbal eviceration in his head the whole way over, and as Licinia's fist assistant he had learned from the best and thought the result would be a thing of beauty.

 

But after a second Agron tilted his head and peaked up at Nasir with one eye and it was too fucking cute and just slightly pathetic. Nasir felt his fiery rage die down to a mild smoulder.

 

He sighed and crawled up the bed to lean against the headboard next to Agron, who was still peaking out from behind the pillow.

 

Nasir smiled at his boyfriend with fond exasperation.

 

Finally Agron asked in a small voice. “So, you're not going to yell at me?”

 

Nasir glared at him. How dare he look so sad and cute, Nasir had a speech planned. “I think there may be laws against screaming at someone who looks as pathetic as you do at this moment.” he bit out acidly.

 

Now peaking out with both eyes, Agron nervously started to inch his way towards Nasir.

 

Nasir sighed again and put a hand on Agron's shoulder to speed his slow crawl towards cuddles.

 

“I'm really pissed at you you know, but it's hard to stay that way when you're mostly purple and all cuddled up in your duvet like a five-year old.” he muttered bitterly.

 

Agron tilted his head up to give Nasir a small tired smile and finally reached the promised cuddle land that was resting his head on Nasir's lap.

 

Up close the brusing on his face looked even worse. It wasn't just a black eye, half his face looked like someone had slammed it into a wall.

 

Nasir gulped and put his arm as far as it would go around Agron's shoulders.

 

“But, you need to promise not to do it again.” he said seriously.

 

Agron snuggled closer and didn't say anything. Nasir lightly tugged his hair to get his attention.

 

Agron glared at him with a pout.

 

“Because as much as you scared the shit out of me last night, looking at you this morning I'm even more scared.” he continued.

 

Agron looked up at him questioningly.

 

Nasir poked the purple swelling around his eye. “I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose. Go to the gym when you're already hurt, go looking for someone to beat you up if you're upset, start a fight when you know you're outnumbered. Just cause you want to hurt yourself.”

 

Agron shook his head forcefully and then visibly winced when the hangover made it feel like his brain was bouncing off his skull. “I didn't- I don't” he croaked out. He looked like he might cry.

 

Nasir tried to force a smile but he knew it came out thin and watery. He slid down the headboard so that he was lying propped up with Agron's head was resting on his chest. He held Agron a bit closer and a bit tighter.

 

“It's okay. Go back to sleep we'll talk about it when you're feeling better.” he soothed.

 

After a moment Agron's breathing became deep and even. He fell asleep to the sound of Nasir's heart beating and felt okay for the first time since Laeta had told him the verdict was coming back.

 

After a minute Nasir very gingerly shifted him to the side, holding his breath and he tried not to wake him up and leaned over as far as he could to snatch his bag from the dresser. He pulled out his ipad and shifted Agron back.

 

He surfed the internet with one arm still firmly wrapped around his boyfriend and started composing a new (slightly) more mild speech to give to Agron when he woke up. His talking points included: a) if your going to demand your signficant other treat the relationship seriously and commit you better fucking do the same, b) cellphones:invented for a reason, and c) the buddy system and why it works.

 

He was starting to feel quite pleased about the whole thing when he noticed a link on facebook and had to stifle a shriek. He hurriedly clicked it, watched a few seconds of the video and, after a moment's deliberation, viciously elbowed the sleeping German awake.

 

“AGRON! You're on UPWORTHY?”

 

Agron lifted his head up and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. “Wah?”

 

“Your speech has gone viral.” Nasir told him.

 

Agron gave him a very unimpressed look, shook his head with a scowl and collapsed back onto his chest.

 

He was snoring within minutes.

 

Nasir tried to stiffle a chuckle, but couldn't.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a long time debating which way this chapter should go since I was considering adding pretty seriously to Agron's angst. In the end I decided to be merciful and spare my bb the pain. From here on out we should be moving into more domestic funny fluff territory. 
> 
> Sorry it's a bit short but I thought it would be better to have the drunken mishap resolved before moving on to other things.


	9. We need to have a Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron has that talk with Nasir. Spartacus worries. Oenomaus to broods and Donar's ready rain down some holy fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: brief incident of domestic violence. Discussion of past rape and self-harm/suicide. Also heated arguments between loved ones.

Agron woke up later that afternoon with his head buried in Nasir's armpit which was surprisingly pleasant. He really should compliment Nasir on whatever designer man-perfume he was using down there cause it was working.

 

Nasir peered down to meet Agron's gaze.

 

“Ah, yes. There you are. I think it time to break words.” he murmured.

 

“What, right fucking now?” Agron groaned rubbing his eyes.

 

Nasir sighed, crossed his arms and pursed his lips in thought. “Fine, get a coffee- I think there's a pot going in the kitchen. Then we talk.”

 

Agron nodded, gave a mock salute and stood up (swaying only a little bit).

 

He stumbled out of his room to find Gannicus lying on the couch with his feeth in the air. He staggered over and collapsed next to him with a groan- ending up on the floor as he missed the edge of the couch.

 

“I'm sorry about last night man.” Agron mumbled.

 

“Hmmm. Twas an overreaction on our part.” Gannicus replied breezily but there was something brittle in his voice.

 

“No, man I should have realized you'd freak out after the wreck I was at the meeting.”

 

“Hmmm...”

 

“So, are you okay?” Agron asked earnestly.

 

Gannicus gave him the patented “I'm so unimpressed you've got to be kidding me” stare.

 

“You're the one who's purple instead of peach dude.”

 

“I am never peachy.” Agron snarled.

 

“Ain't that the truth.” Gannicus snorted.

 

“Did you see Nasir when he came in this morning?”

 

Gannicus shrugged. “Yep.”

 

Agron groaned again. “On a scale of dissing my outfit to attack by coffee how pissed was he?”

 

Gannicus sat up and gave him the look again. “He spent two hours in there with you and is still in there and you don't know?”

 

“I was largely unconsious!” Agron protested “And he said something about my being too pathetic to laugh at. But he wants to have words now.”

 

Gannicus quirked he lips and lay down again. “The words 'fire and blood' come to mind as I consider the expression on his face when he first got here. I'm not ashamed to admit I fled in terror. Something I plan to do again momentarily.” he mused.

 

Agron swore in German.

 

“Yep.” Gannicus agreed with a snicker.

 

Spartacus came in from the stairwell and frowned at them. “Why are you on the floor.” he demanded to know.

 

Agron shrugged.

 

“He missed the sofa.” Gannicus supplied.

 

Spartacus looked very troubled. “ Agron, I would have words.”

 

“Look, Spartacus I'm sorry-” Agron began.

 

“Did you break words with Nasir?”

 

Agron shook his head. Though he did speak to Nasir the ammount of actual words used were minimal.

 

“You ought to.”

 

Agron nodded. Spartacus glared at him.

 

“We thought you were dead Agron.” he said darkly.

 

“I still don't understand why that was your first thought it was less than twelve hours!” Agron protested.

 

“Following one of the most emotionally trying days of your life.” Spartacus pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but I'm still me!! Self-harm, suicide have never crossed fucking mind.”

 

Spartacus did not look convinced. “It is not so simple Agron-”

 

“Spartacus. Nasir awaits. I must” Agron winced as he stood up. “Fetch coffee and return or it shall be my balls on a plate.”

 

Spartacus scowled. “Very well. But we will have words of our own in time.”

 

Agron forced a smile. “Can't wait.” He ducked around Spartacus and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

 

The coffee was at least a couple hours old and lukewarm, but it was strong as tar so Agron gritted his teeth and gulped it down.

 

Task accomplised he squared his shoulders and marched back into his bedroom, prepared to face his doom.

 

Nasir looks confused. “Where's your coffee? Don't tell me you chugged it?”

 

Agron nodded decisively. “Yes. I did.”

 

Nasir rolled his eyes and patted the bed next to him. “Well, sit down.”

 

Agron sat and stared expectantly at is boyfriend who stared expectantly back.

 

“Well?” Nasir asked.

 

“Well.” Agron responded.

 

“Don't you have something to say? I know you know. I heard you talking to Gannicus. The walls here are thin remember?”

 

Agron grimaced. “I'm sorry Nasir. I didn't mean to make you worry.”

 

Nasir grabbed a pillow and wrapped his arms around it.

 

“I know you didn't think about how it would effect us all but Agron, you do understand that-” Nasir broke off and stared at the wall for a moment.  “You do understand that as much as everyone was afraid I'd break your heart, I'm still afraid you might break mine?”

 

Agron gaped at him open mouthed. “How?”

 

Okay, now Nasir looked pissed. “The usual way you fucker, or maybe not. I dunno. You could leave me, or cheat on me _or you could fucking die_!!” Nasir smacked him with the pillow.

 

“Mein Gott!” Agron snarled. “What is with you people and your preoccupation with my supposed death!?”

<Christ you fuckers. What is wrong with you people? Why is everyone suddenly concerned that I'm going more nuts that usual? And what I'm some freakin' 14 year old girl with razor. Stupid Cocksuckers.> he muttered under his breath.

 

“Oh do not fucking do that to me you cunt!!!” Nasir shrieked, his face murderous. “Do not pull that German shit on me!! Or I WILL BUST OUT THE ARABIC AND THAT WILL NOT BE PRETTY!!!”

 

“WHY DO YOU ALL THINK I'M SOME FUCKING DANGER TO MYSELF!!?!” Agron bellowed.

 

“HOW ARE YOU EVEN ASKING THAT QUESTION YOU SHIT!!! LOOK AT YOURSELF!!!”

 

“IT'S A FUCKING BAR FIGHT!!!”

 

“IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BARFIGHT!!! BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST?! WHERE'S YOUR UNDERWEAR HUH? WHY'D YOU LEAVE LUGO!!?! YOU WERE SO DRUNK YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED, DO YOU?!? YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN REALLY FUCKING HURT AGRON!!” Nasir pointed out with much handwaving and at top volume.

 

“WELL IT'S MY NECK TO BREAK!”

 

Nasir slapped him.

 

Agron sat back in shock.

 

Nasir looked furious, but his eyes were full of tears.  
  


“Don't you fucking say that you ungrateful cunt.” he hissed pointing his finger in Agron's face.

 

They sat in silence for a minute trying to process what just happened.

 

“What about Spartacus? Or Donar, and Lugo? Christ, what about Gannicus? You're their little brother. Your the kid that made good. I can't believe I have to fucking tell you that if something happened to you it would fucking destroy them.” Nasir said more calmly.

 

Nasir wiped at his eyes. “And what about me, huh? You can't make me give you all these promises that I'll be there for you and take what's between us seriously, if you're not going to RETURN THE FUCKING FAVOUR!!! I-” Nasir broke off and covered his face with his hands.

 

Agron gingerly put a hand on his boyfriend's shaking shoulder. “Nasir.”

 

“It was a PHONECALL Agron. That's all it would have taken. It was one fucking phonecall, to tell someone to come get you, 'cause you were drunk and alone. Don't act like we're nuts because what you did wasn't a big deal, 'cause it would have cost you like 50cents to let us help you. Hell, just if you'd come back for your phone when you realized you'd forgotten it.”

 

“Nasir-”

 

“ANY Other day Agron. ANY OTHER DAY it wouldn't have been a big deal, but you know what? You'd just talked about your beloved kid brother getting raped and murdered on National television, so yeah, maybe we didn't trust that your head would be in a very good place.”

 

“Nasir-”

 

“And for you to brush us off like this as th-though I don't even have the right to worry about you-”

 

“Nasir” Agron grabbed Nasir's shoulders and stared into his eyes. “It wasn't like that. I- You are fucking everything to me. This chance at-at having a fucking life, I.”

 

He wrapped his arms around Nasir and held him close and tried to pretend he couldn't feel his shoulder getting damb.

 

“You were all alone, and someone could have really fucking hurt you.” Nasir choked out.

 

He pulled back and poked at Agron's swollen face. “Someone did hurt you.” Nasir's voice was small and very very sad.

 

Agron tried to smile wryly. “I think I got myself hurt.”

 

Nasir's face crumbled even more. “That's exactly what I've been talking about. I'm scared you're getting yourself hurt on purpose when you feel...I dunno.” He covered his face with his hands again.

 

“I'm not I- I just can't hold fucking tongue to save life. It's alright, I promise. You can even talk to my shrink if you want- Tell her how you're worried about this shit.” Agron tried to explain.

 

Nasir wiped a hand acros his face. “You scared me so badly Agron.”

 

Agron pulled Nasir close again. < Nasir, how can you not realize I worship the ground you walk on? I would never ever do that to you. I'm so fucking sorry you even thought that. I'll be more careful. Just don't go. Please please please don't go.>

 

He could feel Nasir smile against his collarbone. “You're doing the German thing again.” he whispered softly.

 

Agron kissed Nasir's hair. < I know but, you know how shit I am with words. I swear Nasir, I'd do anything for you. I'd fight a legion of Romans soldiers all alone. I'd climb a mountain and jump off. I'd be a goat farmer for you. I love you so much, and if anyone ever hurt you or tried to take you away from me I'd kill every last one of them. My heart will never beat for another.>

 

“It sounds like this is good stuff. Mind repeating it in words I can understand?” Okay, Nasir was sounding more like his usual slightly prickly self.

 

“I said only that I'd do anything for you Nasir, and if anything ever happened to you I don't know what I'd do. My heart will never beat for another.” Agron summarized.

 

Nasir leaned back to grin up at him. “There was more than that.”

 

Agron blushed and looked away. “It was not of import and merely variations upon those themes.”

 

Agron leaned down and kissed Nasir gently. “Ich liebe dich, mein B ä rchen.” 

 

Nasir laughed and kissed Agron again, deeper this time. “Am I meant to pretend I did not understand that?”

 

Agron shrugged. “No. I doubt it comes as a surprise.”

 

Nasir smiled up at him and then frowned. “Don't think I've completely let you off the hook. You made me cry. Nobody makes me cry.” He wiped his face with his hands. “I don't think I've cried like that since I was a teenager.”

 

Agron grinned. “Apologies.” He leaned in to proceed with what was looking to be a very satisfiying make-out session when Nasir held up a hand.

 

“No, stop. You need to go deal with your brothers. And decide what you'll do in regards to your speech.”

 

Agron sat bak on his heels and pouted.

 

“Plus, babe, you need to shower. You smell like a keg made love to an ashtray”

 

Agron waggled his eyebrows. “You could come with me?”

 

Nasir did not look pleased by the suggestion. “No. I've seen your shower. You can enjoy that little treasure on your own.”

 

Agon laughed, nodded and headed off to the shower.

 

When he gets out Lugo is craddling his head in his hands at the kitchen table.

 

He looks up and smiles.

 

<Agron! You ARE back. Thank God.>

 

<Lugo, my brother, I trust you are in as much pain as I am?> Agron said with a smile and a sharp slap to the shoulder.

 

<More, you did not have a new asshole ripped by Spartacus when you lost the baby of the family.> Lugo grumbled.

 

<Why is everyone suddenly declaring me the baby of the family? Mira can't be that much older than me.> Agron complained.

 

<Mira is not part of the family.>

 

<That's cold man.> Agron gasped in pretending to be shocked.

 

Lugo punched Agron hard on the arm.

 

“Is good to see you. Little man angry?” he asked.

 

Agron nodded. “Little man was very angry.”

 

Lugo nodded sagely. “He forgive you?”

 

Agron shrugged. “I think so.”

 

<Spartacus and Donar look to be less quick to forgive.> Lugo complained.

 

Agron grimaced. <Don't I know it. Donar looked set to crucify me when I came in this morning.>

 

Lugo snorted and thumped a fist against his chest. <That's nothing you were the one who was misplaced. I was the schmuck who lost you. I thought he was gonna drown me in the sink or something.>

 

<I'm sorry man. I should have known better than to get hammered like that. I'm no longer 18 ya know?>

 

Lugo scowled. <Shut up, you're closer to 18 than any of the rest of us.>

 

Agron smiled widely at Lugo and was about to make a comment about old men keep up with wild young things, but the smile froze on his face as Donar, obviously attracted by the noise emerged from down the hallway. He knocked on Gannicus and Oenomaus' door as he passed it- suddenly Spartacus appeared from downstairs, and Nasir poked his head out of Agron's room.

 

Agron and Lugo both spun on the spot desperately searching for an escape route but there was none.

 

Spartacus had the door covered. Nasir was blocking Agron's room. Donar and the now-emerged Oenomaus had the hallway (and the door to Lugo's room down at the far end) jammed.

 

The only hope was the window and Agron wouldn't bet against Spartacus having paid Crixus to intercept Agron or Lugo if either of them made a break for it down the fire-escape.

 

Agron met Lugo's gaze.

 

They both knew there was no escape.

 

They were in for a telling off to end all telling offs. Songs and stories would be written about it. Irresponsible drunken idiots would whisper of it in frightened voices.

 

It might one day be adapted into some sort of hyper-violent Speilburg-esque film about the pathos, tragedy and bravery that can be found in such events.

 

Agron didn't resist as they herded him towards the couch.

 

He sat next to Lugo and stared up in terror as Donar, Spartacus, Oenomaus and Nasir all crossed their arms and looked deeply disappointed.

 

Agron's parents had never looked at him that way but he'd watched enough television to know what it meant: he was about to deal with the consequences of his actions.

 

“Now, I'd like to give you this opportunity to tell us what on earth you were thinking.” Spartacus begins.

 

Agron winced and opened his mouth.

 

 

Nasir was very pleased to get to use his speech. He had planned to use it in private when he's talked to Agron that morning but what with the screaming and the crying and the accusations of attempted suicide by bar-fight those plans had been most decidedly derailed.

 

Agron to his credit took it like a man and managed to refrain from arguing with any of them.

 

Nasir did notice that the man was biting his tongue throughout the majority of the haranguing but appreciated the fact that he didn't fight it.

 

After a while Spartacus sighed and dropped down onto the couch between Agron and Lugo.

 

“So, now that that's over. What do you want to do in regards to your speech? I think this is the moment we've been waiting for- Now is the hour to strike!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, another update? Yay!
> 
> Agron says: I love you my little bear in German. I was gonna have him say little dog but I figured that since being called a dog is a pretty serious insult in some Middle Eastern cultures being called a bear would be better for Nasir since he's Syrian and all.


	10. An Exclusive Interview with the Brotherhood of Batiatus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unsuspecting reporter interviews some modern day gladiators.

_No one who's seen the speech given by Agron Reiner, one of the victims, at the close of the Glaber human trafficking trial has remained unaffected. Anxious to know more about this courageous young man this magazine arranged an interview with him and a few of his fellow survivors._

 

_The interview does not start well. Having agreed to interview him in his apartment I found myself arriving at a rather derelict industrial building. Convinced I had the wrong address I began attempting to contact his representation only to be interrupted by the sound of raucous laughter emanating from the building._

 

_Peeking inside I was confronted by several shirtless men of a variety of ages wrestling. Upon seeing me they directed me to Agron's apartment on the second floor._

 

_Agron greets me at the door. He's a tall and physically imposing man of about 25 who smiles sheepishly at me and offers to break some skulls if the guys downstairs gave me any trouble. There are two other men in the apartment, both older- in their mid to late thirties. They are introduced to me as Crixus and Gannicus both are polite if a bit withdrawn._

 

_I'm not sure what I was expecting from his apartment, but whatever it was I didn't find it. The loft seems more like a love-child of an industrial space and an old 1950's house. The kitchen table where we sit down is covered in a vinyl checked tablecloth and the walls are painted a cheerful bright yellow._

 

_We make small talk for a moment before Agron tells me the story of how he came to be a member of the infamous 'Brotherhood of Batiatus'._

 

_A: I was with my brother at a bar in Berlin. We'd gone there from Munich on a whim and were definitely what people who know about these things would deem 'high risk'. No family, no friends, and no money. We got drunk and were drugged. Ended up waking up in a shipping container. We had a few dicey encounters after that but nothing serious until we were sold to Batiatus. Now, as Crixus or Gannicus could tell you that was really a best case scenario for me and Duro.  
_

_I:How so?_

 

_C: Because a man who is beaten and broken cannot fight. A man who believes himself helpless and worthless will not fight. Other places, places that Gannicus and I have known, they have other uses for a body and care not if the will and spirit breaks so long as the body does not._

 

_I: Do you have anything to add Gannicus?_

 

_G: Not presently I'm afraid._

 

_I: Can you tell me about life at Batiatus' place?_

 

_C: Every_ _day_ _was much like the last. We rose at the appointed hour, ate our meagre portion of food and resumed training. We trained- practising moves, building strength and fighting each other, for 12 hours a day every single day, barring those where we fought in truth._

 

_G: That is untrue. From time to time there would be a party or some such thing and we would be required to act as entertainment._

 

_C: That is true. And I was often called upon to see to Domi- that is Lucretia Batiatus. It was through her that I met my heart- Naevia._

 

_I: Naevia?_

 

_A: **Groans** I have heard enough of Naevia to last a lifetime and knowing the woman now, I find I tire of you constantly listing her virtues. _

 

_I: So, Naevia is your girlfriend? Partner? Wife?_

 

_C: She is my heart._  
  
I: Do the rest of you have significant others?

 

_G: Agron's got his one true love, for all he makes fun of Crixus._

 

_A: Shut f**king mouth! In no way am I as Crixus._

 

_I: So you have a girlfriend?_

 

_A: I don't want to talk about that right now, so return to f**king point woman._

 

_I: Alright, so you were discussing the abuses you suffered under Batiatus?_

 

_A: Well, Crixus was flogged to within an inch of his life. I stepped between my brother and the traimer's whip once. Gannicus? Did you ever suffer injury?_

 

_G: I was champion. My only injuries were of the heart and mind._

_  
I: You still call yourself a champion?_

 

_G: I can fight as no other man can. There is pride in that. It was that pride, the cheers of the crowd, the rush of victory that made us loyal. A man may become accustomed to anything. We all became accustomed to violence, brutality and murder, and having become accustomed to such things it is hard to leave them behind._

 

_I: So, for the prisoners the greatest toll was psychological?_

 

_(Long pause)_

 

_C: Yes. Most of the men were as Gannicus and myself, and were bought by Batiatus long years after we had ceased to be free men. Agron was unusual in that he arrived never having suffered under the boots of other masters. After the treatment elsewhere the relative freedom of Batiatus' ludus was enough to earn the loyalty of us all._

 

_I: Even you, Agron?_

 

C: _Perhaps not the pup. Him and his brother lived in their own world. Fools that they were._

 

_A: Speak again thus and I will silence f**king tongue you unruly c**t._

 

_I: So, you proetected you brother during your captivity Agron?_

 

_A: We protected each other. My therapist has told me that because of that continuity and focus on another person the long term psychological effects for me are less sever than they might have been._

 

_I: What were the fights like?_

 

_C: The ring was sand and there were seats around it, for them to watch. You'd come out, sometimes with a weapon, sometimes without and then you'd kill each other in as bold and dramatic a way as possible. Sometimes they weren't fights to the death, but often they were._

 

_I: During your speech you listed a large group of people who died while captives of Batiatus, could you explain more about that? Perhaps tell me some of their stories?  
_

_G: He spoke of Melitta. She was of an age with me but I saw her as a sister, a mother, a friend. Until she and Oenomaus I had never known kindness or family. She was a former sex-slave and had more or less been bought as a reward for Oenomaus- his exclusive whore. But, that was not what they were to each other, and she was only forced to do such things during the parties Crixus mentioned. One day, I was brought up as entertainment, and Melitta was there. They told me I had to fuck her. I had to rape the only family I had ever known. She died of poison two weeks later. Whether on some spiteful whim or by accident I never knew, but I held her as she choked to death on her own blood._

 

_C: Barca was a good friend of mine. He was murdered by Batiatus for trying to buy freedom for himself and the boy Pietros. He was a gruff man, not a kind one except to his birds and to the children that sometimes came through. We used to call Pietros his wife, Barca protected him and fucked him-may have loved him too, I don't know. Pietros had always been there to serve us fighters, as assistant or as a whore. After Barca's death one of the other fighters started raping the boy, every day. Pietros hung himself, the only freedom in his reach and he took it._

 

_I: What about Duro, Agron?_

 

_A: During the police raid Glaber's men started trying to get rid of the evidence. In the fighting and confusion Duro and I ended up on our own with one. He was going to shoot me in the head. Duro tried to knock me away and was shot in the stomach. It took him a long time to die but help still didn't get to us fast enough._

 

_I: Why did you make that speech?_

 

_A: Because, you ask us about our fights before you ask about those that died. Many of the names that I listed I know only because they are the names of men that I or another of the Brotherhood killed. There is an interest in our case because it is unusual but, attention needs to be brought to the more common crimes. To women like Crixus' Naevia who were abused and raped and drugged. I am so angry about what happened to me and what is still happening to others and it sickens me that my case is given more attention because I'm a white man instead of an-_

 

_C: A trembling hand may yet become a fist. We have all done what we can to aid our fellows but we want to strike back at this institution._

 

_I: That's very admirable. Are you starting a non-profit or an organization of some kind?_

 

_A: For now there is nothing official but we're all doing what we can to further our cause and are definitely considering becoming involved in a more organised capacity._

 

_I: Can you tell me about your lives now and how you're putting the past behind you?_

 

_C: Naevia has only recently been rescued from torment. All hours not spent earning enough to keep her well are spent with her in support and companionship._

 

_G: I, unlike these two, do not have regular employment but instead take such work as comes. I spend much of my time attending or leading support groups to help address my many flaws._

 

_I: Agron? What about you? Would now be a good time to talk about that girlfriend?_

 

_G &C Laugh _

 

_A: It's my f**king boyfriend. And as good a time as any I suppose._

__  
  
I: Oh, so you're gay.

 

_G: Oh as a maypole._

 

_A: Still f**king tongue Gannicus._

 

_I: Did your sexuality in any way influence your treatment in captivity?_

 

_A: No, you stupid b**ch, it actually never came up! I was a bit too preoccupied with keeping myself and my brother alive to worry about screwing around._

 

_I: I'm sorry. I apologize._

 

_A: Fine._

 

_I: So, is your boyfriend another survivor like Crixus' girlfriend, Naevia?_

 

_A: No, he works in the same building as me. **Laughs** Actually, we began dating as a result of Crixus being a sh*head. Na- that is- my boyfriend came to the rescue and we've been dating ever since. _

 

_I: Are there challenges in dating someone who hasn't had the same sort of experiences as yo?_

 

_A: Yes, but that would be true no matter what._

 

_G: There was actually a pretty extensive hazing process we put the poor guy through to make sure he was serious about Agron._

 

_I: Really?_

 

_G: Yeah, we'd just turn up if we knew he was going somewhere with Agron and give him dirty looks. Not to mention he must have heard the “If you hurt him, they'll never find the body” speech at least 2 dozen times._

 

_I: Seriously? Why was it so important to you?_

 

_G: Well, Agron's sort of the baby of the family I mean, he was what 20 when he was freed? And there's a bunch a couple of older German guys who have a special kinship because of the shared language....I mean, Agron's done a lot better than most of us so it's become really important to the brotherhood as a whole that he keeps doing well._

 

_A: Aw, Gannicus, you do care._

 

_G: Of course I do Gigantor!! Since your little speech the whole world cares!!_

 

_{...}_

 

Nasir tried to hold in his giggles as he read the ill-tempered ramblings of his friends. But, it was pretty difficult. Agron was watching him read it with a nervous expression.

 

"Is it that bad?" he asked.

 

Nasir shook his head quickly. "It's not bad. You guys say what you feel, I think it works."

 

Agron sighed and flopped forward onto the kitchen table.

 

Nasir couldn't contain his laughter any longer and reached out to run his fingers through Agron's hair.

 

"Seriously, you did them proud. Okay?"

 

Agron smiled up at him. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the long wait this time. I got busy with other things, and am having trouble finishing this story. 
> 
> This should be the second-to last chapter. It's a bit different but I hope you guys like it anyway.


	11. Blood Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir gets a visitor, and tries to decide what it is he wants.

Agron is practicing his patented 1000 yard stare that allows him to more or less meditate while also doing his job. 

 

Well, when he stares into the distance he's usually not doing his job _particularly well_ but it does help during those first couple hours in the morning before people really start coming in.

 

The fact that this it is not currently the early hours of his shift is neither here nor there. It's 11:30 and he is starving but it's half-an-hour till lunch and his blood sugar is in the toilet.

 

“Hey. You.” Someone barks.

 

Agron blinks and focuses on an irritated (but handsome) man in a nice business suit.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

“I'm looking for Licinia Crassus' office. What floor is she on?”

 

Agron checks the schedule. “Do you have an appointment? I don't see a note telling me to let someone in.”

 

“No. I'm here to see her assistant.”

 

“Oh. I actually know them. Which one is it? I'll just call up for you.”

 

“It's Nasir.”

 

“Oh.” Agron feels his heart sink a little. “Right.”

 

 

Nasir is staring at a spreadsheet and praying that the organisational gods will grant him a stroke of divine inspiration when the phone rings.

 

“Licinia Crassus' office.”

 

“Hey, Nasir. It's Agon.”

 

Nasir smiles and leans back in his chair. “Hello, my lover! I'm sorry- impossible for me to do lunch today. I'm doing the seating charts and there's been a crisis-”

 

“Yeah,..” Agron sounds weird. “A man claiming to be your brother is here.”

 

Nasir sit bolt upright. “Conservative haircut, and a suit that costs more than your building?”

 

“That's an accurate description.”

 

Nasir starts grabbing things off his desk and shoving them in drawers. “Well, then umm, tell him that I can't do lunch but if he just needs something quick send him up 'kay?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Nasir has managed to rid his desk of all inappropriate gag gifts,and pictures of Agron, and made himself look calm, and composed and hard at work by the time his brother appears.

 

“Nasir.” Hamza greets him with a smile.

 

Nasir forces a smile and stands up. “I'm sorry, did I forget you were in town...?”

 

“No. Last minute trip they sent me over to deal with some shit at our offices here.” Hamza says while looking at his phone. “I wanted to make a dinner plan.”

 

“Oh, I actually-”

 

“Is it work?”

 

“No.”

 

“Than cancel it. I haven't seen you in 3 ages. Ummi and Baba thought you'd have moved back closer to home by now.”

 

“I'm in fashion Hamza-

 

“So, move to Paris. You hear horror stories about America.” Hamza replies, indifferent and uninterested.

 

“I like New York.” Nasir argues.

 

“Whatever. We're meeting for dinner. Tonight at 8. The nicest place you've sent this fucking hag to. I'm buying.”

 

Nasir grits his teeth but nods. “Fine.”

 

“Good.” Hamza is still looking at his phone. He turns to head towards the elevators again and then pauses and asks (still without looking up from his phone).

 

“Are you seeing anybody right now?”

 

Nasir freezes. For a second, for a brief and wonderful moment, he plans to lie. He'll tell his brother he's still single. His brother will nod because he's just asking to be polite and could not care less anyway and then he'll go to dinner which will suck and then he'll crawl in with Agron tonight because he won't want to sleep alone after all that.   
  


Agron wouldn't even mind. He'd probably expect it even-

 

And it's that thought that make him abandon the plan.

 

“Yeah, actually I am.” Nasir declares. Lifting his china and planting his feet.

 

“Is it serious?” Hamza asks, finally looking up and raising his eyebrows in challenge.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh.” Nasir is going to pretend his brother doesn't sound disappointed at the news. “Fine. Then bring 'em.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Kay. Text me the name of the restaurant.” Hamza calls over his shoulder as he turns on his heel and disappears back down the hall.

 

“Will do.”

 

Nasir sighs and sits back down. He stares at the seating chart without seeing it for a second and then, when he's sure that Hamza will have left the building, he phones Agron on his cell.

 

“Hey, barchen.” Agron answers. “Your brother manage to drag you away from seating charts?”

 

“No.” Nasir leans forward to rest his head against the desk. “We're meeting him for dinner. I'll go to the closet and see if I can find a decent suit big enough for you.”

 

“What!? Are you serious this is a terrible idea.” Agron protests.

 

 Nasir pretends that Agron is talking about the suit and not the dinner. “The only suit you own and I say 'you own' even though you are fooling nobody and I fucking know that you and like three of your so-called 'brothers' own one suit between you and all wear it when you absolutely need a suit.”

 

“Oh. Really? You knew that?”

 

“Of course I knew that! If you'd been the sole owner I'd have burned it and bought you something decent that doesn't make you look fat.” Nasir grumbles.

 

“I look fat?!” Agron sqwawks.

 

“No. You're suit is just ugly. And don't think you've distracted me. You're coming to dinner okay?”

 

“C'mon, Nasir. From everything you've said you're family is like, messed up in a normal way. Also, they'll hate me.”

 

“Yes. He probably will. But, I'm not going to pretend you don't exist okay? You're coming with me.”

 

“Alright, if you are certain.”

 

“I'll see you at eight okay?”

 

“Of course.”

 

 

Of course there is nothing in the closet samples even close to being large enough to even consider trying to shove Agron's enormous frame into it.

 

Nasir takes a moment to curse himself for not foreseeing this exact moment and buying Agron a suit along with the rest of the wardrobe upgrade he's been doing.

 

But, Agron is just not a suit sort of guy. They tend to make him look even more ginormous and boxy.

 

Sighing, Nasir pulls out his credit card and gets on the phone with Barney's. There are perks to this job and then there are _perks_ to this job.

 

And if Barney's somehow gets the impression that this suit is a personal favour for Licinia herself well, then they just need to work on their listening skills don't they?

 

 

 

 

 

Agron does not look happy when Nasir find him standing outside the restaurant in the new suit.

 

It isn't quite right and Nasir is still baffled how his totally handsome boyfriend somehow manages to look terrible in what is probably one of the most flattering items of clothing ever inented but that is neither here nor there.

 

Nasir leans against Agron for a second trying to catch his breath (he'd pretty much sprinted all the way there from the office.)

 

He feels Agron sigh and bring his hand up to rest on Nasir's neck.

 

“It will be alright.” Agron mumbles.

 

Nasir glances up at him in surprise. Agron is probably trying to look reassuring but he's not doing to great a job. His smile is insincere and seems disconcertingly frozen on his face.

 

“Hey,” Nasir sighs. “You stole my line.”

 

Agron smiles for real at that and Nasir grabs his hand. “C'mon, let's get inside.”

 

Agron pulls a face, but doesn't argue. Nasir is thankful for that.

 

Hamza's already at the table and of course his suit looks absolutely perfect. Not rumbled like Nasir's or ill-fitting like Agron's. He looks like he should be on the cover of Details Magazine.

 

He gives Nasir that stupid fake smile he always does. The one that's laced with pity.

 

Nasir and Agron sit down. Hamza's already ordered a bottle of wine and poors each of them a glass without asking.

 

He eyes Agron. “You are not what I was expecting.” He declares bluntly.

 

Nasir can see that Agron is panicking and has been panicking ever since they entered the restaurant. The place is too fancy, and judging by the awkward stoop of his shoulders the chair is too short for him to sit comfortably without sticking his legs out underneath the table which usually wouldn't be an issue but Hamza's sitting across from him and would probably be enough of an asshole to think that Agron was playing footsie.

 

Agron swallows and tries to look interested. “What were you expecting?” There's a sharp edge of nervousness in his voice.

 

Hamza shrugs “Someone from the magazine like Nasir? You know fashion-y, or something.”

 

Nasir grits his teeth to keep from pointing out that Hamza had never been interested in meeting anyone Nasir dated and if Nasir was remembering correctly had actually only ever met Castus who Nasir hadn't actually really been dating.

 

Instead Nasir clears his throat and says: “Agron works at the security desk. You know how Licinia always has me running in and out of the building? I guess it was inevitable.”

 

Hamza's eyebrows inch towards his hairline. “Really? He works security?”

 

Agron nods and takes a gulp of wine. “Yup.”

 

Hamza smiles again. “Well, don't worry about a thing. Dinner's on me.”

 

Nasir wishes he were still 13 years old and allowed to hit his brother in public.

 

He opens his mouth to tell his brother off but Agron beats him to the punch by grinning like an idiot and practically shouting. “EXCELLENT!!! Lobster time!!!”

 

Nasir shoots him a glare but Agron is too busy studying the seafood section of the menu to notice.   
  


“So, Hamza...Why did you want to have dinner so bad?” Nasir asks, viciously tearing a bread roll in half and cramming one hald into his mouth. “Usually when you're in town you don't make such a-” he waves at the fancy restaurant with the uneaten half of the roll “-production out of it.”

 

Hamza smiles that stupid fake smile again.   
  


“To be honest Nasir, it's about Ummi.”

 

Nasir sits up straighter. “She okay?”

 

Hamza grimaces “Well... she wants you closer to home. She told me to talk to you about it next time I was in New York.”

 

Nasir crushes the half of a roll still in his hand. “I work in fashion. There's nowhere other than New York for that.”

 

Hamza takes a sip of water. “There's Paris. Madrid. London?”

 

Nasir sighs and stares at the ceiling. “My life is in New York.”

 

“What life? You work all the time and are slumming it with someone who works in your building. There are fashion magazines in Europe too.” Hamza says calmly and cooly.

 

“Slumming it?!” Nasir hisses.

 

“How can you be so insensitive Nasir? With everything that's going on Mum would rather we all live on the same continent. That is not asking a lot.” Hamza continues as though Nasir hadn't interrupted.

 

“I'm insensitve? You just summed up my serious relationship with someone I've been dating for over a year as slumming it. You haven't said a word to my boyfriend all night and you're acting like I should just ditch everything and move to France?! Why on earth would I want to move to France right now?” Nasir growls, leaning further and further across tha table the longer he talks.

 

“Because, we're your family Nasir.” Hamza says softly. "I know that you needed to get away, but now our Mother needs you to come home."

 

Nasir takes a deep breath and tries to breath. He will not cry at a stupidly expensive French Restaurant. He will not.

 

“So,” Hamza says turning his attention to Agron. “Are you American.”

 

Agron practically jumps to attention in his seat. “No. German, actually.”

 

“Oh, Whereabouts?”

 

“Ummm, Munich and then Berlin. I moved around a lot when I was a kid. Came here when I was about eighteen.”

 

“With your family?” Hamza actually seems like he's interested in knowing.

 

“My kid brother, actually.”

 

“All alone? That's bold. New York everything you hoped it would be?” There's a hint of sarcasm in Hamza's tone, but Agron doesn't seem to mind so Nasir tries not to either.

 

Agron shrugs and then smiles dopily at Nasir before reaching across the table to hold his hand. “The people are pretty great here.”

 

“What about you Hamza? How's your work?” Nasir asks.

 

Hamza shrugs. “Well...”

 

Nasir sits back and let's Hamza's apparently limitless interest in the interpersonal gossip surrounding his colleagues and Agron's unending well of tales of drama within the Brotherhood float them through the rest of the meal.

 

Just before they headed out for the night Hamza pulls Nasir into a hug. “I hope you know what your doing kid.” he whispers with a pointed look at Agron who was happily full of lobster and standing a few feet away.

 

Hamza steps back and waves. “I'm serious little brother. Mama wants you back in Europe ASAP. Call her.”

 

Nasir sighs and waves. “I will. I will.”

 

Agron swings an arm over Nasir's shoulders but the walk home is very quiet.

 

They go to Nasir's apartment, because it's closer to work and downtown than Agron's and they both still have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to work.

 

Agron watches Nasir as he gets ready for bed. It's easy to do, since Nasir's bedtime routine is a production involving hair and skin care while Agron's involves stripping to his boxers and crawling into bed.

 

Nasir looks troubled and preoccupied.

 

Agron waits until Nasir has turned off the light and snuggled up to him before he says anything.

 

“Do you miss your mother?” He murmurs into the darkness.

 

He feels Nasir roll over to face him before his boyfriend answers. “Yes. Sometimes I miss her.”

 

Agron nods. “Do you think you'll move back to live near her?”

 

Nasir sighs and shifts to face away fromo Agron again. “I don't know.”

 

“It would be okay if you did.”

 

Nasir sighs and smiles a little into the darkness as he blinks back the tears that suddenly spring into his eyes. “Go to sleep Agron.” he whispers.

 

Agron does, but Nasir can't. He stares at the darkened ceiling for a long time and lets his mind run in circles as he tries to work out what it is he wants to do and what he should do. And whether they are the same thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys. I've completely lost my writing mojo and it's taking me forever to finish anything. 
> 
> That said this should be the second to last chapter. 
> 
> We're in the home stretch!!!!
> 
> PS: I considered having Ashur be Nasir's brother but went for an OC because while I wanted Nasir to have a complicated relationship with his brother I didn't want him to be and actual psychopath. 
> 
> I got Hamza's name from a list of common Syrian names on Google. So, hopefully it's alright. 
> 
> In case anyone's wondering. Nasir comes from money and spent most of his childhood living in Europe. His brother lives in London and is an investment banker. Nasir had a rough time in school and had a rocky teenager-hood. He moved to New York to study fashion and also because he really felt he needed a fresh start. He's hardly been back at all since but is able to live in New York and work a crappy job because he's still got some financial support from his family.


	12. Life Goes On (The End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron wants Nasir to do what he wants for once. 
> 
> A choice is made.

Agron doesn't usually go to the precinct. He actively avoids it (because they're fucking cunts and he'd like to crack all their skulls like eggs), but he needs to talk to Spartacus and he needs to do it away from where the Brotherhood or Nasir might overhear.

 

So he goes to the precinct and waits at Spartacus' desk.

 

He finds himself staring at the nameplate. Dt. Thrace. He feels sick. He's known Spartacus' real name for a while now but he's pretty sure he's never said it out loud and certainly never called the man himself by it. None of the Brotherhood uses it despite Spartacus always asking them to. Why? It was hard to remember now why it had seemed so important.

 

Why had it been important that they couldn't let Spartacus turn back into who he'd been before and leave what happened behind?

 

He feels the eyes of the other cops on him and does his best not to fidget or look guilty. He's never been anything but a victim to these guys but all the same the old instincts from being poor and rough and then from being a whore still sometimes bubbled to the surface. You don't trust cops. Ever.

 

Unless they were Spartacus.

 

Someone probably told him the second Agron walked in because Spartacus comes sailing into the room at just a couple steps short of a run as if he expects Agron to be bleeding out onto the carpet.

 

“Agron!” He says, and Agron can tell he's trying not to shout. “Are you okay?”

 

Agron nods. “Yeah, just wanted to break words.”

 

That makes Spartacus' mouth twitch. It's been a while since Agron's English has been bad enough that he needs to trot out phrases from the old period dramas the guards had liked so much.

 

“Of course.” He jerks his head towards the door.

 

Agron smiles and follows him. They stand outside a few feet down from where a few cops are huddled together smoking.

 

“What is it?” Spartacus asks, and out here away from his collegues he doesn't bother fronting. He's worried and he's showing it.

 

Spartacus is probably one of the only people to ever worry about Agron. He always used to be the one doing the worrying- about Duro mostly.

 

Agron glares at the cops. “Nasir thinks perhaps...”

 

He sees Spartacus tense. It's a nice feeling, Agron realizes, having someone want to protect you even if the pain is minor.

 

“Nasir's mother wants him to leave America.” Agron finally spits out.

 

Spartacus deflates. It's bad news but not the bad news he was anticipating.

 

“Oh. That could be-”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Where does she want him to move to?”

 

Agron shrugs. “Back to Europe. She's in Portugal, his brother is in England.”

 

Spartacus nods. “It would be easy for you to go. You're a German citizen, that means you can live wherever in the EU.”

 

“Yes, I know that shit head. I'm the one who's fucking German!” Agron teases.

 

Spartacus is watching him closely, and Agron doesn't want to look at what's in his eyes.

 

“It would be easy to go.” He repeats. “But very hard to come back.”

 

Agron scowls. “That is fucking problem, yes.”

 

Spartacus sighs and leans against the wall next to Agron. “What does Nasir want to do?”

 

“He's worried about me, and his job. I don't know what he really wants. He's not letting it be about him.”

 

“What do you think?”

 

Agron thunks his head softly against the brick and leans up to stare at the sky. “I think he has a fucking family that misses him. I think he should go if he can. His brother is right- there's better fashion there anyway. He'd like Italy, I bet.”

 

Spartacus hums noncommittally. “Would you?”

 

Agron squeezes his hands into fists tight enough to make his knuckles pop. “He has a family. There's a war in his country. His mother has lost friends and relatives. If he wants to be closer to her then that's what he should do.”

 

“She's not your mother. What about you? What about your family?” Spartacus demands.

 

Agron feels that old anger that always boils under his skin flare up again. “What fucking family? The bonds of the Brotherhood are strong but don't pretend they are as a true family.”

 

Spartacus grits his teeth. “Tell so to Donar and Lugo, and see if they agree.” He manages to spit out through clenched teeth.

 

Agron scowls even harder and shoves his hands in his pockets, stepping away from the wall.

 

“I'm going to the gym! Since you worry so much about where I'm going!” He calls over his shoulder.

 

“Agron!” Spartacus yells after him, but Agron just waves and keeps walking.

 

 

 

Nasir doesn't expect Agron to be awake when he gets home. He doesn't even expect him to be there. The man works himself hard and usually if Nasir is working late Agron just sleeps at his place, so it's a surprise to see him sitting on the couch when Nasir comes in.

 

“Agron? What are you doing here?”

 

“I needed to talk to you.”

 

“What's so important it couldn't wait?”

 

Agron frowns and stares into Nasir's eyes earnestly.

 

“I... I think you should go, if you get the chance and if you want to.”

 

Nasir can feel himself tearing up and goddamnit he never used to cry. “What are you talking about?”

 

Agron is gazing at him like he can somehow transfer all the love he feels through eye-contact.

 

“Your family. I know what it is to be without those you love and if- if you want to be closer to them, then you should do that and not worry about me.”

 

Nasir doesn't know whether to scream or cry. He settles for striding across his apartment and smushing Agron to his chest with the tightest hug imaginable. “Don't. Stop talking. We're not talking about this.”

 

Agron tries to say something but Nasir holding him so tightly it's impossible to make out the words. It takes him a minute to pry Nasir off.

 

“I think you misunderstand me Nasir.” Agron says having to physically hold Nasir at a distance long enough to get the words out. “I meant that whatever decision you make, wherever you decide to go I will go with you. If you want.”

 

Nasir stares at Agron in shock. “I would never ask that. I couldn't make you leave the Brotherhood.”

 

“You didn't ask. I'm offering. I just needed you to know, for when you're thinking about what you want. You need to do what you want, because family is important okay? You only get one.” Agron states simply.

 

Nasir doesn't say anything. He wants to but he can't. So he settles climbing down onto Agron's lap and kissing him as hard as he can.

 

They're lying in bed together, Agron still half on top of Nasir, before he can finally say what he needs to.

 

“It's not the same. My family. I know you and Duro were...close” he chooses his words carefully because he knows what he's been offered here. “But, my family- we're a family but we wouldn't die for each. We're just not like that.”

 

Agron shifts to meet his eye. “It doesn't matter. I just needed you to know that I would go. If you wanted. It's your choice. Make it based on what _you_ want. Not whether I would come with you, or whether your mother would be sad or Licinia would be angry. It's your life. Your's. ”

 

Nasir squirms down so that he can hold onto Agron a bit tighter.

 

“Do you want to go back to Germany?” he asks.

The question had never occurred to him before. Agron had alway's seemed like he couldn't exist without all the rest of it- the Brotherhood and the gym and the cops and run-down half-refitted loft apartment. He'd pictured Agron before all that of course, little teenage Agron who hadn't known a train was headed his way, and older (but still so young) Agron being hurt and hurting, but he'd never pictured Agron in the future. An Agron who might be settled enough not to need to punch bags several hours a day to make sure he didn't punch a person. An Agron with career ambitions and a dog and a house in the suburbs. He'd never wondered whether Agron wanted to stay in New York forever, or if he saw himself somewhere else in the future. Never tried to imagine where they'd end up and whether they'd end up there together.

 

It hadn't even occurred to him to suggest Agron move out of the Brotherhood's building to live with him full time.

 

“Maybe. I never wanted to before, but if we were going back over there anyway...” Agron trails off and nuzzles at Nasir's neck. “I'd go with you.”

 

It's dizzying to think of leaving this world behind, of stepping out from the shadow of the Brotherhood and really going it alone. Nasir thinks back to when the Brotherhood had been stalking them on all their dates. They were a pain sometimes- Lugo, Donar Gannicus and the rest but they were also a safety net. They were there to support Agron if he needed it, they'd fight him and fix and understand him in ways Nasir didn't, and they'd do all that for Nasir too.

 

“Whatever you want.” Nasir replies running a hand through Agron's hair. He can feel Agron smile against his breastbone.

 

They can do whatever they want. There's nothing to stop them.

 

They have a future, and it's their choice what they do with it.

 

 

 

 

 

\-----

 

 

In the end they do go.

 

It takes two years for Agron's paperwork to be sorted so he knows that if he leaves the US he'll definitely be able to get back in.

 

The Brotherhood throws them a party to send them off and it's lovely and horrible at once. Everyone looks like they're trying to hold themselves together to keep from weeping onto the nachos. Nasir feels like he's maybe ripping apart something important, but the job he's got waiting for him is too good to pass up and they've already looked up support groups Agron can go to that meet near enough to their prospective apartment.

 

Spartacus keeps sidling up to him and asking questions, double checking that they'll have everything they need, they have the phone numbers of everyone in the Brotherhood and Lugo who's totally not going on an extended trip to Germany just in case they need help and support settling in. They have the numbet of Laeta and Agron's therapist and they've made an appointment for the referral there and they've stocked up on all the junk food you can't get in Europe. They've found a gym and packed extra socks.

 

Nasir smiles and laughs and nods. He knows Spartacus is asking him these questions because he's already asked Agron so many times the man's likely to take his head off if he brings it up again.

 

Naevia kisses Nasir on the cheek and he tries to stifle his laugh at Crixus' affronted look.

 

Agron has one arm swung over Gannicus' shoulder and another over Donar's. They're drunk and they're singing.

 

Chadara is chatting up the mysterious Mira, who Nasir has never actually managed to get to know.

 

He thinks, just for a second about that kid in the picture, the one he's seen when Spartacus had told him to know the facts in case he broke Agron's heart.

He wonders if it would have comforted Agron to know then that he had all this waiting for him.

 

Probably not.

 

But if makes him happy now...

 

Nasir vaults over the couch and throws himself into Agron's arms for a kiss. Everyone cheers and laughs.

 

Agron makes Nasir happy now.

 

Tomorrow they're leaving New York.

 

Agron's going to help with the charity long distance.

Judging but Spartacus' fretful expression he'll be visiting soon.

Gannicus is 4 months sober and has finally managed to progress from staring awkwardly at Sibyl to holding her hand and smiling sweetly.

Oenomaus is inscrutable as always.

Lugo's claiming to be in love and Donar's gotten a gig as a trainer.

 

They're going to be okay.

 

They all are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey guys. So, here we are. At the end. 
> 
> This is the first time I've finished a WiP and it's also the longest thing I've ever written.
> 
> I hope you guys like where this ended up and how it got there. I know that the last few months updates have been few and far between so I thank everyone who's hung in here for the end. 
> 
> Big shout out and a hug to everyone whose commented on this story. I appreciate it a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a soft spot for Agron being the one who's kind of a mess because to my mind Nasir had sorted himself out really early on but Agron's still got ISSUES that he's trying to deal with throughout the entire series. So, that's another reason why this fic exists. 
> 
> Timeline wise this fic takes place several years after Spartacus' undercover operation brought down the Batiatus ring.


End file.
